


Turning Up the Heat

by Xingshou



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Diners, Alternate Universe - Human, Drug Use, F/F, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Sex Worker Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Slow Burn, radiodust - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28445400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xingshou/pseuds/Xingshou
Summary: Alastor is surprised to find a restaurant bequeathed to him in his deceased mother's will, and all he wants to do is get rid of it. That is, until he meets the staff.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Comments: 137
Kudos: 232





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back because I live in the Hazbin AO3 now, you can't get me out!  
> Anyway enjoy this human AU : )

Alastor glanced up from his phone as the taxi stopped, and tried not to curl his lip as he stared at the diner through the fogged-up window. It was a squat building set slightly back from the main road with a small parking lot and a sign with peeling letters proclaiming some kind of new blueberry topped waffle. This was what his mother was so keen on him taking over once she passed? It looked like a stiff wind might knock it over. He was now in tornado country, after all. Maybe he’d get lucky. 

He stepped out of the taxi, giving the driver a generous tip before turning back to face the diner, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. Northern Louisiana was chillier in the autumn than the New Orleans he was used to, and he wrinkled his nose as he felt a few light raindrops hit him. 

Go in, introduce himself, alert the staff of the new ownership, and leave. That was all he needed to do before he could return to his Best Western motel room and start searching out a possible new buyer for the place so it wouldn’t be a burden on him for too long. 

A tanned-skinned young woman stood at the hostess stand, a large pink bow holding her dark hair back. She smiled when she saw him come through the door, a bell tinkling above his head. She reached for a menu, a stack of them neatly piled in a small holder. “Hi, welcome to Al’s Diner. Table for one?” 

Alastor flicked his eyes around the dining room. Considering it was two in the afternoon in the middle of the week, the place was slow. Only two old ladies took up a corner booth, slowly sipping at coffee and chatting. “Actually, I won’t be eating in, today. I was hoping to speak to the shift manager.” 

The hostess’ smile dipped just a bit. “That would be me. Is everything alright?” 

“More or less,” Alastor shrugged. He gestured to the diner’s name on the menu, “I’m Alastor. Or, Al, as in, Al’s Diner. Some sort of joke of my mother’s, I assume, considering we fell out of contact considerably before she opened this place. And your name, Miss…?” 

“You can just call me Vaggie. Everyone does. Let’s go into the office, okay?” Vaggie put the menu back into its holder, calling through a window to what Alastor assumed was the kitchen, “Husk! I’m stepping off the floor for a minute!” She didn’t wait for an answer before she turned on her heel and walked off, Alastor taking a moment to realize she expected him to follow. 

Vaggie led him through two swinging double doors at the other end of the dining area, weaving through a dish pit with a stainless steel sink and plastic tubs piled high with dishes before finally stopping at a closed door with a grimy plastic sign reading ‘Office.’ She kicked aside a mop bucket and a wet floor sign with an irritated huff before pulling out keys and unlocking the office door, ushering him inside. 

The office was small enough to be a closet – and in fact, it looked like it might’ve been being used as one, if the cleaning supplies stacked haphazardly in one corner were any indication. Vaggie squeezed herself in behind the desk, swiping some papers aside and holding a hand out to invite Alastor to sit across from her, which he did.  
“We were all very sorry to hear about your mother’s death, Al,” Vaggie said. “She was a good lady.” 

“Alastor, if you don’t mind,” Alastor said, “And yes, so I’ve been told, although I did mention we fell out of touch quite some time ago. If I’m honest, learning that she bequeathed this place to me came as quite a shock. My business here is really to ensure that everything is being run as properly as can be, before I find a buyer for it. I have no desire to run a greasy spoon in the middle of nowhere.” 

Vaggie’s face closed off just slightly, though her tone remained light and professional. “I see. Well, I’ve been the manager here for the past two years, and I can assure you everything is run properly. We have a pretty small staff, and we’re visited monthly by the health department, who never grades us lower than ‘A’.” She leaned back, drumming her fingers on the formica desktop. “Does that suit your expectations for ‘properly run’?” 

“I’m sure everything is just fine,” Alastor said, sensing he’d irritated the woman somehow, “But I’d still like to observe some daily operations myself, if that’s alright with you and your staff. Just to sate my curiosity.” 

“Sure, I guess. We’re pretty dead right now though, nothing really to ‘observe.’ Why don’t you come back around the dinner rush like around six? We’ll have the full staff here then too so you can meet everyone properly.” 

“That suits,” Alastor agreed, matching her when she stood up, a clear sign for him to exit. “I’ll see you then. It was nice to meet you.” 

“Mhm.” Vaggie ignored his outstretched hand as she wove back through the dish pit, back to her hostess stand duties. 

Alastor found his way out through a back exit, standing in the parking lot for a moment wondering what he was meant to be doing for the next four hours. Going all the way back to the hotel would require two more taxi rides back and forth, and that would barely give him enough time in the hotel room to even be worth it. 

He’d seen a small, somewhat traditional looking main street from the cab earlier, just a few blocks from the diner, and he set off, deciding to kill some time by seeing what the shops there had to offer. At the very least he could soak up some of the local color. 

A quaint coffee shop on the corner caught his eye. He was always interested to try establishments that had yet to be cannibalized by global chains, and he figured he could easily spend a few hours there, especially if it were the type of coffee shop that had its own little bookcase to borrow from. 

Just as he put his hand on the door to push it open, his phone buzzed in his pocket, startling and distracting him, making him just miss whacking the man on the other side with the door. 

“Damn,” the man had leapt back to avoid Alastor’s swing with the door, apparently spilling a little bit of coffee as it now dripped from the paper top onto the ground. “Eva hear of lookin’ where ya goin’?” 

Alastor had been about to apologize, but he didn’t appreciate being spoken to like an idiot, and he looked the other man up and down. He was almost impossibly tall, no doubt helped along by the six inch glittering heels he was wearing, along with skinny black jeans and a cropped pink shirt showing his belly, despite the chilliness of the weather. Soft blond hair fell in waves over his face, dyed light pink at the ends. He raised an eyebrow down at Alastor as he waited for a response. 

“Did you ever hear of not standing right behind an opening door when someone is obviously trying to come in?” Alastor asked sharply, moving to skirt around the other man. “Excuse me.” 

The taller man gave him a mocking little bow, “Yer excused, yer majesty. I’ll give ya a pass ‘cause ya cute.” He was already walking out the door before Alastor could come up with another retort. 

He shook his head, joining the line to order coffee. What an odd man. He decided to put it out of his head, as it was unlikely he’d ever cross paths with that particular stranger again. When it was his turn to step up to order, the woman behind the register perked up. “Oh! You must be Alastor!” 

Alastor paused, blinking. “How on earth did you know that?” 

“Small town like this, word travels fast,” the cashier smiled, “The main cab driver around here is my cousin. We were all so sorry to hear when your mama passed, she was a great lady. It’ll be great to have her son runnin’ that diner. So what can I getcha?” 

“An Earl Grey tea if you don’t mind, with milk,” Alastor said. “And I do hate to disappoint, but I’m mostly here to make sure the restaurant isn’t full of rats before I sell it off.” 

“Ah, that’s too bad,” the cashier said, grabbing a cup and tossing a teabag in, starting to fill it with hot water. “Still, welcome to Ruston, anyway!” 

“Thank you,” Alastor said stiffly, taking the cup she handed to him and tossing a dollar in the tip jar on the counter before seeking an out of the way table. 

He fumbled his phone out to check the text that had startled him. It was from a local businessman he’d been in touch with who’d shown some interest in buying the restaurant – some guy named Vox. Alastor had looked him up, and it seemed like the guy was legit – apparently owned quite a few chain bars and restaurants in many of the neighboring towns. Now that Alastor was in town, he wanted to meet. 

Alastor sent a quick text back with some possible days and times that would work for him, then picked up the local newspaper that had been left on his table and started to leaf through it. The sooner he could get that dead weight of restaurant lifted off him, the better. 

\--- 

The hours passed quickly and pleasantly in the coffee shop, and Alastor wandered back towards the diner around six, where Vaggie took his arm and pulled him to a corner out of the way. 

“Okay, feel free to go and watch what you want, but try to stay out of the servers’ ways and don’t get underfoot in the kitchen,” Vaggie said. “The dinner rush can get kind of crazy.” 

“Understood,” Alastor nodded. 

“Sorry I’m late, bitches!” 

Alastor was aghast to see the same man from the coffee shop earlier kick his way in through the back door and grab a serving apron from a hook, tying it on. 

Vaggie rolled her eyes, “Angel, I told you, those shoes aren’t appropriate for the floor.” 

“But sweetie, these shoes are what give me the good tips,” Angel winked, leaning up against the wall so he could seductively kick a leg up to show off the glittery shoes. He finally noticed Alastor, and something, maybe embarrassment, flicked across his face. 

“Alastor, this is Angel, one of our part-time servers,” Vaggie said. “Angel, this is Alastor. As in, Al’s Diner. He’s the new owner.” 

“Temporary owner,” Alastor cleared his throat, holding out a hand to shake, which Angel took very briefly. 

“Nice ta meetcha,” Angel said, then grabbed some menus and hurried off.

“Wonder what’s with him,” Vaggie mused. “He’s usually a chatterbox.” 

“Something on his mind, maybe,” Alastor said, “Now, you did mention this time of night was busy – please, don’t let me hold you up. I’m perfectly fine to observe on my own.”  
“Oh – right,” Vaggie nodded. “I should get back to the hostess stand, but let me know if you need anything.” 

“I’m sure I’ll be just fine.” 

\--- 

Vaggie hadn’t been exaggerating when she said the place got busy for dinner. Every seat and booth became filled, and Alastor found he had a harder time staying out of the way than he’d originally anticipated. Angel and another server, a swift and diminutive girl named Niffty, dashed between kitchen and tables, balancing hot dishes with practiced ease while Vaggie handled the cash register. 

Alastor was somewhat surprised to see that none of the restaurant-goers seemed to give Angel a second glance. He was aware that this part of Louisiana was somewhat more liberal than the deeper Southern parts of it due to the existence of a small liberal arts college in the town, but still, he’d expected some kind of reaction to a twinky blond server prancing around in glittering shoes. 

Instead most of the guests seemed to already know Angel and were clearly happy to see him, chatting with him as he leaned over to take their orders or playfully sat in the booth with them for a moment or two while waiting on their food. 

Angel’s friendliness didn’t extend to Alastor, apparently, as the blond either completely ignored him or snapped at him when he got in his way. After accidentally crossing behind Angel and almost making him spill a tray of drinks (“Fuck! Ya supposed to say behind when ya walkin’ behind a server, asshole!”) Vaggie diplomatically relegated Alastor to a corner of the kitchen where he would be out of the way but would still be able to observe through the pick-up window. 

The line cook was a grizzled man named Husk, and Alastor couldn’t help but be impressed with the speed at which he slung plates with orders onto the pickup window almost mere moments after Angel and Niffty dropped off the order tickets. It was like he was a man possessed. He hadn’t been too pleased to have Alastor in the kitchen at first, but once he realized Alastor was going to keep to his corner and not talk to him, he was happy to ignore him and return to his work. 

About halfway through the evening, Alastor observed as Angel dropped by the hostess stand for a quick break and to guzzle a bottle of water that was stashed underneath. 

“Man, lousy tippers tonight,” he grumbled through sips, but quickly brightened, “But guess who I just sat in my section, Vaggie? That blonde girl you have a crush on!” 

The hostess flushed a deep red, “I – Angel! I do not have crushes on any of our customers!” 

“Coulda fooled me,” Angel teased. “Ya gonna actually try ta talk to her tonight?” 

“You’re her server, you talk to her,” Vaggie hissed, pushing him, “And you’ve been off the floor too long, anyway – go back out there.” 

“What if I give her an on the house dessert and tell her it’s from ya? Then will ya?” 

“Angel!” 

“I’m goin’,” the blonde rolled his eyes and headed back out to his customers. 

Alastor waited until it seemed as though business and the dinner rush was winding down before approaching Vaggie again. "It does seem as though everything operates quite well here. Like a well-oiled machine, as you said. I have to say I’m impressed.” 

“Thanks,” Vaggie said, tapping her pen on the seating chart in front of her. “We do spend a lot of time together, so better we work together like a family than have the customers suffer, you know?” 

Alastor nodded, “I think I’ve seen all I need to. Once you close up I’d like to address you all very briefly, and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

“Sure thing,” Vaggie said, then turned away, racing to pick up the ringing phone. 

\--- 

Once the last customer had paid their bill and left, and the chairs were being put up on the tables so Niffty could vacuum under them, Vaggie gathered the staff in the kitchen where Alastor stood in front of them. 

“Thank you for letting me observe you all tonight… I know it was probably a bit… odd –“ Alastor paused as he noticed Angel fidgeting out of the corner of his eye, running his hands through his hair and checking his phone, “Excuse me, Angel, do you have somewhere more important to be?” 

Angel immediately stopped fidgeting, his face shutting down and transforming into a smirk instead, “Shit, like anywhere else wouldn’t be better than here right now.” 

Alastor raised an eyebrow, “Well, this’ll just take a moment of your apparently precious time. It was nice to meet you all, and I can see you have everything taken care of as far as operations, so tomorrow I’ll be meeting with a potential buyer for the place and hopefully that will be that.” He gave a small nod to Vaggie, and she looked at Angel. 

“You can go.” 

“Hang on, kid,” Husk said before Angel had made it completely to the door, reaching behind the pick-up window and taking out a to-go box full of food. He passed it over to Angel, “Almost forgot that.” 

“Lifesaver as always, Husk,” Angel winked, blowing a kiss over his shoulder as he headed out. “Night, sluts!” 

As the rest of the waitstaff filed out to clock out and head home for the evening, Alastor cocked his head at Vaggie, “Would it be alright if I came in early tomorrow to meet with this Vox fellow? I don’t want to bother finding another possible meeting venue if possible.” 

Vaggie looked at him with some surprise. “Vox is the potential buyer?” 

“Yes, so?” 

“Nothing, it’s just…” Vaggie frowned, “Nothing, never mind. Yeah, you can come in early. I’ll be here to receive the dairy delivery so just knock on the back door.” 

“Excellent, then I’ll see you in the morning,” Alastor said. “Thank you for the enlightening evening.” 

Vaggie gave him an odd look, escorting him to the door before locking up. As Alastor waited for the cab that would take him back to the motel, he couldn’t help but look up at the sign and wonder what on earth had compelled his mother to open up such a place. 

\--- 

The next morning dawned gray and drizzly. As Alastor walked up to the diner under his umbrella, he frowned at a very beat up Toyota taking up one of the spots. The place wasn’t open yet, and all the staff that were supposed to be there had already parked in their spots. 

Out of curiosity, he peeped into one of the windows, and was surprised to find Angel laid across the back seat in a sleeping bag, fast asleep and surrounded by what looked like piles of clothes. He drew back, biting his lip before continuing up to the restaurant. He got the feeling he’d just intruded on something private. 

A very sleepy-looking Vaggie opened the back door for him and guided him to a booth, quickly returning to checking in a delivery of milk boxes. Niffty bounded up to him, energetic as ever, pad and pen in hand. 

“Good morning, Mr. Alastor!” Niffty beamed. “Can I get you some coffee?” 

“Coffee would be great, yes, thank you,” Alastor said. “Er – Niffty?” 

“Hm?” 

“I’ve just seen – well – I hate to be… rude, but – your coworker Angel, does he… sleep in his car?” 

Niffty paused, putting one hand on her hip, though her smile didn’t drop. “Everyone who works here had it rough one way or another. Angel doesn’t talk a lot about his story but we know he showed up last year without anything, and managed to get that car a coupla months later. Your mom made sure people like him and us at least had some kinda steady job. Pretty nice of her, right?” 

“Yes… yes, I suppose so,” Alastor said slowly. 

“Vaggie and Husk have offered to put Angel up a few times but he always says no,” Niffty shrugged. “He’s got another job somewhere though, maybe he’s saving for an apartment. Anyway, I’ll be right back with your coffee!” 

Alastor watched her zoom away before checking his phone. He was so engrossed in what he was looking at that he barely heard the other man approach him. 

“Alastor?” 

Vox was tall and skinny, wearing a designer suit and a heavily blinged out Apple watch, sunglasses on top of his head despite the fact it was gray outside. He removed two wireless ear buds from his ears before reaching out to shake Alastor’s hand. 

“You must be Vox,” Alastor said, standing to be polite and gestured Vox into the booth. “Sorry, I was a little distracted.” 

“Happens to the best of us.” Vox caught sight of Niffy who was coming over with the coffee pot and snapped his fingers at her, “We’ll have another pot of that, darling, a fresh one, not one that’s been sitting all morning.” He smiled at Alastor. “Gotta have the best.” 

Alastor raised an eyebrow. “Certainly. Well, shall we –“ 

“Business, yes,” Vox said. “I don’t know how much research you did, but basically, I’m turning this little shit-hole of a town around. Already did it in the neighboring towns. Revitalized the main streets, got rid of ‘em, changed ‘em up – sure, we might be in the swamp, but why can’t the swamp have a little of Manhattan sparkle in it, right? That’s where I learned all my trade, by the way, Manhattan – where you from?” 

“Right here, actually,” Alastor said, starting to decide he wasn’t liking the vibe he was getting from this guy, “Bit deeper South though, closer to New Orleans.” 

“Ah, perfect!” Vox said, “Then you’ll love this. Ruston’s a town full of history, why not show it off? We can make our very own Bourbon Street. Already got the high class girls filling a strip club or two on the outskirts here, turn this place into a Hooter’s or somethin’ – boom, tourism goes straight up.” 

“What about the college?” 

“More customers,” Vox shrugged, “College kids love to feel like they’re getting the ‘real experience’ without havin’ to deal with things like actual consequences or relationships. Believe me, it’s a model that works. So, what’re you asking for this place?” 

“Just a moment,” Alastor said. “I was just curious if you planned to keep any of the staff on?” 

Vox smirked, “Only the hot ones. So…” he gestured to where Vaggie was lugging a box into the kitchen, “Definitely not her, unless it was real dark.” He looked Niffty up and down as she dropped the coffee pot off, “Maybe her, though.” 

Alastor’s lip curled. “I see.” He was beginning to be at war with himself. Yes, he did want to be rid of the place, but the man’s plans for his mother’s place were absolutely vile, and Alastor couldn’t think he could forgive himself if he was the cause of the destruction of a perfectly quaint main street. He wouldn’t be the one responsible for turning it into some seedy facsimile of the Vegas Strip. 

Besides that, Alastor was well aware he had a petty streak a mile long. He was starting to feel that he should hold onto the diner just for the sole purpose of Vox not getting it, his actual desire for ownership be damned. 

“I’m sorry,” Alastor said slowly, “For wasting your time, but I’m afraid I’ve changed my mind. I’m not entirely sure our visions are compatible.” 

For a moment Vox frowned at him, but then a smile spread across his face, “Ah, playin’ hardball, huh? Hard to get negotiation? I get it. Fine, if that’s how you want to play it. I can’t wait around here all morning, but here –“ he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a business card, sliding it across the table. "Come by my club this evening and we’ll talk numbers there. See what you’re missing out on before you decide the answer’s no.” 

Vox got up, leaving his coffee half finished, straightening his suit out. “But don’t leave it too long. I’m willing to pay big bucks now – might not be the same tomorrow, y’know?” He stuck his hand out to shake, drawing it back with a shrug when Alastor didn’t take it. “Well, whatever. Club opens at six.” He stuck his air pods back in, whistling to himself as he headed out the door. 

Alastor sipped at his coffee as he watched him go, wondering if he had just made a big mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Here's a new chapter for ya.

Vaggie stared at Alastor blankly over the cash register. She’d been looking at him like that for a good few minutes now – Alastor was starting to wonder if he should check her pulse when she finally spoke. 

“So let me get this straight. Yesterday you couldn’t shut up about wanting to get rid of this place. And now you don’t want to sell it?” 

“I don’t want to sell it to Vox,” Alastor corrected. “And I’m afraid he was the only potential buyer I had lined up. It’s going to take some time to line up any other interested parties.” 

“Uh huh.”

Vaggie didn’t look very impressed, and Alastor couldn’t blame her. Still, he soldiered on. “So, I’m going to need some more somewhat permanent lodgings than a motel room. Any hints on where to start looking?” 

“The coffee shop usually has things posted like that,” Vaggie shrugged, “Or you can check around the school’s campus. There’s always people looking to fill apartments there.”   
“Thank you. I’ll be back later.” 

Vaggie raised an eyebrow at him. “You know being owner doesn’t mean you need to be here twenty-four seven, right? Your mom loved this place and even she only dropped in every once in a while. We’ve got it covered.” 

“I don’t doubt that you do, but I am not my mother,” Alastor said. “So as I said – I’ll be back later.” 

When he stepped back outside into the parking lot, Alastor couldn’t help but notice Angel’s Toyota was gone. 

\--- 

The town itself had some certain charm, Alastor had to admit as he strolled through the campus green that cut through the center of town. The gray clouds of the morning had parted to make way for a crisp, clear autumn sky, and Alastor took some pleasure in crunching colored leaves under his feet as he went. 

There were some perks in it being a small town as well. A simple mention in the coffee shop that he was looking for a more permanent setup, and all of a sudden the woman running the register was all over him with a landlord cousin who had an apartment he wanted to fill and wasn’t that lucky? Alastor was starting to wonder just how many cousins this lady had. 

So now he made his way past the campus to check out this apartment, though he had pretty much already made up his mind he was going to sign the lease as long as it wasn’t full of cockroaches. He didn’t need somewhere fancy, he just needed somewhere with a roof and a kitchen while he sorted out this whole restaurant business. 

“Save the theater before it’s too late!” 

Alastor paused. A table had been set up on the side of the path, and a slim blonde girl was waving a clipboard at passers-by. She spotted him before he could find a way to slink past without her seeing. 

“Sir, sign a petition to save the Main Street Theater? It’s a classic piece of history for Ruston, and they’re gonna tear it down!” 

Alastor glanced down at the clipboard – so far there was only one signature on it. With a sigh, he took the pen. “Well, far be it for me to not support the arts, I suppose.” 

“Thanks so much, Mr…” the girl leaned forward to read his signature, “Alastor? Oh – oh! You’re the new guy who’s taking over the diner, right?” 

Alastor placed the pen back on the clipboard and handed it back, “Does this town get together every evening and track my movements or something?” 

The girl laughed, apparently not taking the hint as he started to walk away, falling in step next to him. “No, it’s just that the diner’s an institution, so people are bound to hear when things happen with it. I’m Charlie, by the way.” 

“Charmed,” Alastor said flatly, “I do have an appointment to get to, so –“

“We’re sponsoring a gala to help raise the money to restore the theater,” Charlie powered on, “And a lot of local businesses are donating things to help support! Things for an auction or even just donating ad space.” She paused, looking at him expectantly, and Alastor hesitated in his stride. 

“Yes, well, like I said, I am in a bit of a rush right now –“ 

“Oh, you’re busy,” Charlie smacked herself, “Duh. I’m so sorry!” 

“That’s quite alright –“ 

“I’ll just drop by the diner later. We can talk about it then!” Charlie gave him a bright smile and was skipping back to her table before Alastor even knew what was happening. 

He had a feeling Vaggie was going to be annoyed with him. 

\--- 

As it turned out, the apartment in question was just what Alastor was looking for. A first floor unit in a four-family building, a simple one-bedroom with a charming picture window and a pecan tree outside. He supposed he could do worse, and the price was certainly right. One of the benefits of living in the middle of nowhere, he supposed. He would have to visit the local thrift shop and get some furniture when he had the chance. Just because it was temporary didn’t mean he had to live like an animal. 

Going over the paperwork and getting his things moved from the hotel into the new place had taken most of the afternoon, and his stomach was rumbling when he checked his watch and realized Vox’s club was opening soon. 

He didn’t particularly want to go, but he’d definitely made up his mind about not wanting to sell the diner to Vox, and he felt the gentlemanly thing to do would be to tell the other man in person. Considering how many other places Vox seemed to own based on his research, Alastor didn’t think he’d be too disappointed with the firmness of his decision. At the very least, he could hopefully get some food there. 

Alastor arrived at the club a little past six. He had to admit, it was classier than he was expecting. The place was more sports bar than dance club, with blown up screens blasting football and soccer games on nearly every wall. If it hadn’t been for the stage up against one wall with the adjacent stripper poles, it wouldn’t have been much different than any other sports bar in any other suburb. 

He lingered by the door for a few moments, unsure what to do. He didn’t have to wait long, though, as Vox stepped out from a side office and spotted him, his face breaking into a smile. “Ah, Al! Welcome, welcome, so you did drop by, smart of you. I just need to finish up somethin’ real quick, let me get you all taken care of –“   
“It’s Alastor, if you don’t mind –“ 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Angel!” Vox snapped his fingers, and to Alastor’s surprise, the same Angel from his diner stepped out from behind the bar back. He was wearing a pink crop top and pink hot pants to match, and he gave Alastor an obvious long look up and down as he set his serving tray aside. If he was surprised Alastor was there, nothing showed on his face. 

“Yeah?” 

“Show our guest a good time while I finish up,” Vox said. “G.F.D, you know the deal.” 

“Mhm. C’mon then, player.” Angel slipped an arm around Alastor’s waist, making Alastor leap away, startled, and straighten his shirt. 

“That, uh, that won’t be necessary…” 

Angel raised an eyebrow at him, shrugging and opting to take his wrist instead, guiding him over to a booth. Alastor sat down, and his brain immediately short circuited as Angel plopped right down in his lap, putting his arm around his shoulders and pressing against him. 

“So what’ll it be for drinks, big boy?” 

Alastor wriggled underneath him, pressing palms on the other man’s chest to get him off his lap, “I’m afraid there might have been some misunderstanding here, I’m not particularly interested in you sitting on my lap, Angel. Please get off.” 

Angel made an annoyed noise and glanced over his shoulder, apparently looking for someone. “Look, play along, will ya? Ya know what G.F.D. means? Girls, food, drink, all covered, ‘cause you’re an important guest or some shit, an’ if he comes ova and sees I’m not –“ 

“Everything going okay over here?” Vox stood over them, a pleasant if somewhat fake smile on his face. 

Angel batted his eyelashes at him, “Yeah, perfect, Mista Vox, I’m just gonna go put in the drinks order in now.” He finally slid off Alastor’s lap, giving him a dirty look over his shoulder as he walked away. 

Vox slid into the booth across from Alastor. “He’s one of our most popular. You wouldn’t believe the big bucks people pay to see a snow bunny like that dance. Helps that he’s good at it, too. Stick around for an hour or so, you’ll see for yourself. And ah, of course, if you’re the type that prefers private time with the dancers… it’s on the house tonight.” 

Alastor dug his fingers into the vinyl of the booth he was sitting on, trying to not let on just how hard he was clenching his jaw. “I hardly think that’d be appropriate, considering I’m his boss as well.” 

Vox raised an eyebrow at him, pausing for a moment. “But not for long, though, right? Speaking of which, I’m prepared to offer half a million for your spot.” 

Angel returned holding a tray with two beers, placing them down in front of the two men, very obviously not making eye contact with Vox. 

“I actually came here to tell you I’m rejecting your offer,” Alastor said. “As I mentioned, I don’t believe our visions for this town are quite compatible.” 

Vox snorted, leaning back against the booth. “Maybe see what you’re missin’ before you say no. Angel, tell Dia to start the music now and get up there.” 

Angel paused, hesitating where he’d been pouring the beer, “Um, Mista Vox, I’m s’posda take my break in a minute so Summer can go…” 

“Well now you’re getting up on the stage,” Vox said, his voice taking on a sharper tone. He started reaching for his phone, and Angel’s gaze followed it, the blonde biting his lip. 

“Right, sorry, Mista Vox, I’m goin’….” 

“Good.” 

Once Angel was gone, Vox smiled benevolently at Alastor. “New York types. Tough as nails but usually got an attitude to match.” 

Alastor frowned at him. “Well, as I was saying, thank you very much for your offer of entertainment, but – “ 

He was interrupted yet again as the lights suddenly went down and the bass music got louder. Vox wasn’t paying attention to him anymore, his eyes on the stage. Alastor hunkered down into his seat, annoyed. 

A spotlight went up on one of the side stages with a pole, and a woman’s voice came over a microphone. 

“You come for the drinks and the sports, but this is who you stay for – ladies and gentlemen, let’s give a big hand to – Angel Dust!” 

Angel got up to the clapping of the gathering audience, moving to the music before grabbing the pole and spinning himself around it, seductively sticking his tongue out and winking at the people who got closer to the stage. 

As he watched, Alastor did have to admit the athleticism was at least impressive – Angel wrapped himself around the pole like gravity didn’t even exist. 

Once his clothes started coming off, though, Alastor decided he’d had enough and slid out of the booth, leaning over onto the table to be heard over the heavy bass music. “Thank you for your hospitality. The answer is no – good luck with the rest of your ventures.” 

He didn’t wait for Vox to answer before heading for the door at a pace that he hoped didn’t look like he was running away. 

\--- 

Vaggie leaned on the case of display desserts, drumming her fingers on the glass irritatedly as Alastor bent over to inspect them. 

“Are you gonna pick one or just eye-fuck all the pies?” 

Alastor straightened up to give her a look, “Excuse me?!” 

“You’ve been staring at the display pies for five minutes. Just pick one, they’re all good!” 

“I like the lemon meringue best,” Niffty piped up as she zoomed by with a bus tub full of dishes. 

“Then I guess I’ll try the lemon meringue,” Alastor said. 

“Fucking finally.” Vaggie bent over to reach for the pie, getting out a plate. “I can’t believe you went to that nasty-ass club. That Vox guy is such a dick. Thinks he owns the damn town.” 

“You were aware that was Angel’s second job?” Alastor asked. 

“Yeah, so?” Vaggie shrugged. “I don’t judge. Apparently he used to do similar stuff back in New York.” 

“Yes, Vox did mention he was from there as well. So how on earth did Angel end up in small town Louisiana?” 

“Not a clue,” Vaggie said. “He doesn’t seem to like to talk about it if you bring it up. Coffee with that?” 

“Please. When is Angel’s next shift?” 

“Tomorrow, for the after-church crowd,” Vaggie said. “Saturdays are always his nights at the club. Why?” 

Alastor shook his head. “Just wondering…” 

They both turned toward the door as the bell above tinkled, and the blonde from before – Charlie, Alastor remembered – stepped inside. She was still holding the clipboard, and her face lit up when she saw him. 

“Hi! Remember me from earlier?” 

“I do,” Alastor sighed, realizing he was well and truly trapped now, “How can we help you? Actually – would you like something to eat or drink? Vaggie?” Alastor swiveled back to the manager, surprised to see her face had gone bright red. He raised a brow, clearing his throat, “Vaggie? Hello?” 

“Oh – right, sorry,” Vaggie laughed, running a hand over her face, biting her lip as she grabbed a menu, thrusting it into the girl’s hands, “Um, here…” 

“Actually,” Alastor said, sensing an opportunity to escape, “Vaggie here is the shift manager and knows quite a bit more about this place and this town than I currently do. Why don’t you sit down with her and decide how Al’s Diner can help with your… cause? Yes, that sounds good,” he said, nodding, completely ignoring the frantic head-shaking Vaggie was doing in his direction. “Why don’t you girls take the booth by the window?” 

“But what about the register?” Vaggie asked through gritted teeth. 

“I’m sure I can figure out how to add and make change,” Alastor said simply. “Off you go, ladies.” He ignored the absolute death glare he got from Vaggie as Charlie happily led the way to the booth and started to spread out the papers from her clipboard on the table. 

\--- 

Alastor arrived at the diner early the next morning, eager to speak to Angel before his shift started. He was disappointed to see Angel’s Toyota wasn’t in the parking lot, and even more disappointed to find that the other man wasn’t at his post. 

“He’s late, but he hasn’t called,” Vaggie said, checking her phone when Alastor inquired about it, “We’ll give him twenty more minutes before we call him a no-call no-show – he usually shows up eventually. Now can you grab some menus? Sundays are chaos.” 

Alastor was not prepared for the after church crowd – chaos was an understatement. Every seat filled immediately, and the waiting list stretched to an hour long. He found himself dashing back and forth, helping Niffty fill drinks and soothing the ruffled feathers of customers who’d decided they were waiting too long. It was all they could do to clear a table before another family planted their butts into the seats. He was amazed Husk could keep on top of it all. 

About an hour into the insanity Angel finally showed up, slinking through the back door and picking up his server apron. 

“Ah, Angel,” Alastor said as he dashed by, “Could you spare a moment?” 

Angel glanced up, his eyes heavy with bags as if he hadn’t slept at all. He looked around the crowded dining floor and shook his head. “No, not right now, Al – m’already late.” 

“It’s just a moment – “ 

“An’ I said no!” Angel took his pad and stalked off, plastering a smile on for the young family that had just walked in through the door. 

Not to be deterred, Alastor followed him as he dropped off the tickets for Husk. “I just – I saw your performance last night, and it was impressive, but I wanted to offer you some more hours here. If you prefer it here to the club.” 

“No thanks.” 

Alastor paused as Angel dodged around him, grabbing hot plates from the pickup window, then steeled himself, following the other man once more. 

“But we’re certainly busy enough, me giving you more hours wouldn’t be taking any hours away from anyone else if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Angel growled as he tripped on Alastor’s foot, nearly dropping the plate – he dropped it off safely at the customer’s table, then poked a finger into Alastor’s chest. “Fine. You, me, the office, now.” 

Once they were in the office, Angel leaned against the wall, eyes cast down, arms folded. Alastor cleared his throat, but Angel started talking before he could. “I’m not interested in leavin’ the club, okay? Ya think you’re the first guy to come in here an’ think you’re some kinda knight in shinin’ armor, ‘rescuin’ me from strippin’? Well, you’re not. I ain’t interested, I’m happy wit’ my schedule how it is here. So drop it.” 

Alastor frowned. “I thought perhaps it could help you make a bit more money. I – saw you… in your car…” 

Angel’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know what ‘drop it’ means?” He shook his head, “Tch. You don’t know shit. Just leave me alone, okay?” 

He was out the door before Alastor could answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think of Vox as like a small-town Donald Trump in this story. Lol. Also fun fact, Ruston is a real place! It's where I went to middle school!   
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments so far, and thanks for reading, as always, feel free to comment if you wish to!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are lucky I have to quarantine for this week and a half because now I have literally nothing to do except write self-indulgent RadioDust lol

Alastor knew he was getting in too deep. He told himself he wasn’t getting obsessed, even as he put another search into the search engine on his laptop, trying to find some kind of solid information about Angel. It was like the man was a ghost – obviously, Angel Dust wasn’t his real name, and he must have taken it up once he moved out of New York, because no combinations of the name and New York City came up in Alastor’s searches. 

He’d tried to find hiring paperwork for Angel to get a real name at the diner, but when he got to Angel’s folder, it was empty. When he’d asked Vaggie about it, she mentioned his mother had had a habit of hiring people under the table, so that option was out. 

Alastor didn’t even know why he cared so much. Angel clearly didn’t like him, and went out of his way to avoid him whenever possible during his shifts at the diner. If he couldn’t avoid him, it was a harsh word or a hip-check, no matter how much Vaggie threatened to write him up. 

But there was obviously something there under the surface, something past the annoying persona Angel put on, and Alastor was determined to get to it. He just wished he could figure out why he was so determined to get to it in the first place. 

After a few weeks, an idea finally occurred to Alastor, one he couldn’t believe had hadn’t thought of before, it was so simple. 

Once the diner was finally closed up for its Friday night customers, Alastor called another meeting, even dragging Husk out of the kitchen for it. The staff gathered around him at the front of the dining area, waiting expectantly. 

“You’ve all been working quite hard,” Alastor said, “And I know it can’t have been easy to adjust to my coming here and all, and so, I’d like to thank you. Monday night, the diner will be closing early, and I’d like to invite you all to my home for dinner. Plus ones are acceptable, of course.” His gaze landed on Angel as the blonde was opening his mouth, “Attendance is mandatory.” 

Angel’s mouth shut, transforming into a scowl, but he didn’t say anything else as he followed the rest of the team to clock out for the evening. 

Step one was complete. If Alastor could get Angel away from the diner, but along with a familiar group, Alastor hoped he would let his guard down, just a little. Now Alastor just had to decide what on earth he was going to make. 

\--- 

Monday night came along too slowly for Alastor’s liking, but it did eventually roll around. He’d settled on individual Cornish hens for everyone for the main course, and was in the middle of putting the finishing touches on his stuffed mushroom hor d’oevres when the doorbell rang. 

To his surprise, it was Husk who had arrived first, thrusting a bottle of red wine into his hands as he stepped. “Here.” 

“Oh, uh – thank you very much,” Alastor said, setting the red on the table. “Well, welcome –“ 

“Yeah, yeah.” Husk flopped into Alastor’s newly purchased armchair, raising an eyebrow at him. “Y’gonna open that or what?” 

“Of course,” Alastor grabbed a wine opener, pouring a healthy amount into a glass and passing it over to Husk, who downed half of it. Alastor shifted from foot to foot, realizing he didn’t really know much about the cook. 

“So… tell me about yourself?” It sounded lame even to him, but he carried on, “Are you from Louisiana?” 

“Nah,” Husk said, hunkering back in the chair. “Not from anywhere really, moved around mosta my life, joined the Army, got outta the Army, yer ma hired me. Not much else to tell.” 

“I – see…” The sound of a car pulling up caught Alastor’s ear and he glanced hopefully out the window, but it was just a neighbor’s car, and it passed without stopping. Husk raised an eyebrow. 

“Waitin’ for the kid?” 

“Everyone was invited,” Alastor shrugged. 

“Yeah, but you’re kinda obsessed with him.” 

“What – how dare – I am certainly not obsessed with Angel,” Alastor protested. “He’s my employee, that’s all.” 

“Yeah okay, sure, you can keep telling yourself that,” Husk said. “But once ya get your head outta your ass and admit it, can I give you some advice?” Alastor didn’t answer, but that didn’t stop Husk from continuing. “Stop pushin’ him. He doesn’t trust real easy. From the shit he told me, he had it pretty rough back in New York, and it ain’t exactly peaches and cream for him here either. Show him you ain’t gonna do anything… shady, or weird, and he’ll trust ya, eventually.” 

“Shady or weird like what?” 

“Fuck if I know,” Husk shrugged, leaning forward to grab the wine bottle to top himself up. “But I do know that whenever that Vox asshole shows up to the diner, Angel doesn’t usually show up for his shift.” 

Alastor was still processing that when the door went again, and he was grateful to find Vaggie and Niffty on the stoop. Anything to save him from the awkward conversation with Husk. It took him a moment, but after a second, he noticed Charlie was standing next to Vaggie, holding a covered dish with a smile. Well, well. This night certainly was full of surprises. 

“You did say plus ones were alright, didn’t you?” Vaggie asked, seeing Alastor’s gaze land on Charlie. 

“Yes, I did, of course,” Alastor said. “Come on in, ladies –“ He was about to shut the door when a black high heeled shoe stuck its way in. Angel. 

“Ah, Angel, right on time,” Alastor said. 

The blond was staring at the ground, holding a flimsy cardboard box in his hands. He wore a light pink sweater dress that fell to his knees with black leggings. A fairly classy outfit. “Yeah, yeah, whateva, let’s just get this over with…” he shouldered past Alastor. 

Alastor shut the door behind him and joined the group in the living room. Angel’s face grew into a smirk when he recognized Charlie. 

“Ey! The blonde from the diner! So ya finally talked to her, Vags?” 

“Not a word, Angel,” Vaggie shook her finger in his face warningly. 

“I wasn’t gonna say shit! Ya two are cute togetha.” 

“It’s not – like –“ Charlie and Vaggie both grew red as they giggled together. 

“Make yourselves at home,” Alastor said, spreading his hands magnanimously. His eyes lit on the box Angel held. “What’s that you have? Can I take it out?” 

Angel shifted, his grip tightening on the box. “It needs ta go in the oven. D’ya mind?” 

“Not at all. This way.” 

Alastor left the rest of the group to chat and drink as he led Angel to the kitchen. Angel set the box on the kitchen table, going to fiddle with the pre-heat buttons on the oven. Once that was done, he leaned against the wall, still staring at the ground, as he waited for the oven to heat. 

“It sometimes takes a bit,” Alastor said. “Would you like a drink?” 

“No.” 

Alastor fell silent, unsure what to say, trying to think back to what Husk had said. He didn’t think he was doing anything shady or weird, was he? 

“So when d’ya hand over the keys?” 

Alastor tilted his head, confused by the question. “Excuse me?” 

“Al’s Diner. Yer ma’s place. When’s Mista Vox gettin’ the keys?” 

“Oh, I –“ Alastor stared as his brain raced to catch up. “Angel, I think perhaps there’s been a misunderstanding? I didn’t sell to Vox, and I certainly won’t. I told him no.” 

“Ya did?” Confusion crossed Angel’s face, “But… he said…” 

“Whatever he said was a lie,” Alastor said, “No money changed hands and no contracts were signed. I still have the deed in Vaggie’s office at the diner if you’d like me to prove it.” 

They both jumped as the oven beeped, and Angel turned to the box, opening it up, revealing a gorgeous cherry pie. Alastor stared down at it. “Did you make this?” 

Angel blushed a little, his body language becoming slightly less reserved as his shoulders relaxed, “Yeah, I – I make mosta the pies at the diner. Husk lets me do the dessert and pastry stuff early in the mornin’.” 

Alastor’s jaw dropped. “You? You make all those? I thought that was Husk – I believe I’ve tried almost every one of them by now. You have a gift.” 

Angel laughed a little as he bent down to put the pie in the oven. “I wouldn’t call pie makin’ a gift. It’s just sorta fun.” 

“I’d highly disagree.” 

“Don’t tease,” Angel said, closing the oven door and setting the timer. 

“I’m not. I can cook fairly well, but I’m a disaster with desserts. There’s an art to it.” 

“Well, thanks for the compliment, I guess,” Angel said. “…I think I will take that drink now, actually.” 

“Red or white?” 

“Whateva gets me drunk faster.” 

Alastor raised an eyebrow, “I believe that would be neither, but let’s try the white since I’m guessing Husk has taken care of most of the red by now.” He reached into his cabinet, pulling out two wine glasses and pouring a healthy amount for both of them. 

Angel sipped at his, looking around the kitchen. “This is a pretty nice place. Seems pretty homey. Ya need a chicken, though.” 

Alastor furrowed his brow at him, “A what?” 

“A chicken. Not a real chicken, idiot,” Angel said, “But, like, a statue of one or a dish towel with a chicken. Somethin’ with a chicken or a rooster on it – it’s s’poseda be good luck and prevent fires in the kitchen. My ma told me that.” 

“Hm, I shall have to see what they have at the local Target when I next get the chance,” Alastor said. “My mother never said anything like that. Were you close to yours?” 

At first Alastor thought he’d made a mistake, asking about Angel’s mother, as the other man’s face grew darker for a minute as he traced his thumb around the rim of the glass, but after a moment he spoke. “Sorta. She died when I was real young though, and me an’ the rest o’ my family…. Did not get along.” 

“I can commiserate on that fact. I am sorry, though.” 

Angel shrugged, downing half the wine in one. “It’s whateva, ain’t my fault they couldn’t handle a queer in the family.” 

“Still, though – “ 

“Hey, Alastor!” Vaggie’s voice floated in from the living room, “Do you have any other music besides jazz and zydeco records, you freak?!” 

“I’ll be there in a moment!” Alastor called back, then turned back to Angel, “My apologies, I’m neglecting my hosting duties. Please, do whatever you need to with the pie and feel free to join us when you’re able to.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Angel gave him a soft smile, “Thanks for the wine.” 

“Of course. I look forward to trying that pie of yours.” 

\---- 

The evening passed pleasantly. Alastor found that his employees were quite interesting dinner guests, and he was grateful to have the opportunity to learn more about them outside of a work setting. 

He also learned that Charlie was a student at the local college, and had grown up in the town, explaining her almost feverish dedication to preserving the historical buildings of downtown. 

“I can’t thank you enough for buying ad space in the new zine,” Charlie said as they sat around the dinner table. “The money will really help for the Peach Festival booth.” 

“We did?” Alastor raised an eyebrow at Vaggie, who kicked him under the table, “Oh – er, yes, happy to help, of course.” 

“What’s a Peach Festival booth?” Angel asked, pouring himself another glass of wine. 

“You don’t know the Peach Festival?” Charlie’s jaw dropped, “It’s the biggest event around here! The whole town shuts down, and there’s games, and rides and pie contests and a beauty contest and all sorts. People come from all the neighboring towns just to go! Anyone who can raise the rental fee can get a booth for anything – crafts, food – but I’m going to rent one to bring more awareness to fixing the theater. I’m hoping to get enough donations to get a surveyor out there.” 

“Your dedication is admirable, my dear,” Alastor said, getting up and starting to clear the dinner dishes away, “But I’m afraid donation for donation’s sake might be difficult. Perhaps if you had something people could buy, or perhaps auction something? Is everyone ready for dessert?” 

“I don’t know what,” Charlie sighed, slumping, resting her chin on one fist. “And I already used most of the money for the booth.” 

Alastor paused where he was coming back with Angel’s pie, looking down at it in his hands. “You know…” he said slowly, “Desserts are quite popular at fairs like that. Perhaps the diner could sponsor some more pies to be bought for the cause. If Angel is amenable to making them, of course?” 

Angel shifted in his seat, his cheeks going pink. “Nah, I don’t mind… if ya don’t mind sellin’ off my pies, I can make ‘em…” 

“Really?” Charlie clasped her fists under her chin, her eyes shining, “That would be so amazing! Oh, I’m sure we’d raise so much money!” 

“When is the festival?” Alastor asked. 

“Next Saturday,” Charlie said. “That’s not too soon, is it?” 

“I should think not,” Alastor said. “Husk and I can help with the extra pie making if it becomes too much for Angel.” 

“You guys are the best!” Charlie beamed. “I just knew you were good when you signed my petition!” 

“I’m not sure signing a petition is a good sign of moral failing or not,” Alastor said, but Charlie just shrugged with a smile. 

“Doesn’t hurt!” 

As the table descended into the girls chatting and Husk drinking himself practically under it, Angel leaned over to nudge Alastor. “Ya need some help cleanin’ up?” 

Alastor nodded, and the two carried the dishes into the kitchen, placing them in the sink. “I’ll wash, you dry, how’s that?” 

“Works for me,” Angel said, taking up a dishtowel while Alastor rolled up his sleeves. 

They worked in silence for a bit before Angel finally spoke up again. “I’m sorry I was kinda a dick ta ya before…It’s just… I couldn’t stand the thought of ya sellin’ Al’s to Vox. It’s like my one places where I get a break from him, an’ I was scared he was gonna be all on top o’ me – more than he usually is, anyway.” 

“Quite alright,” Alastor said, picking at a stubborn spot of grease on a plate, “I would’ve reacted the same.” He glanced over at Angel, “…Are you sure you wouldn’t like more hours at the diner? You could spend more time away from Vox, if that’s the issue.” 

Angel sighed, neatly stacking the dishes in the drying rack. “I can’t.” 

“But why not? If it’s a scheduling issue, I’m sure we can work something out –“ 

Angel laughed a little, though it wasn’t a humorous laugh, “You’re real clueless sometimes, ya know that?” 

“Alastor?” 

Alastor turned to find Niffty standing in the doorway, “We’re going to head out – Vaggie and Charlie said they’d help Husk home.”

“Of course…” Alastor looked down at his soapy hands, “Please forgive me for not walking you to the door.” 

“No problem,” Niffty smiled, “See you at work tomorrow! Bye, Angel!” 

“Bye, hun,” Angel smiled from where he was leaning against Alastor’s counter. Once she was gone, they returned to the dishes. 

“So…” Alastor said as they worked, “You’re from New York?” 

Angel raised an eyebrow at him. “Who told ya that?” 

“Vaggie, Husk, Vox… but the accent was a bit of a giveaway.” 

Angel snorted. “Yeah, guess so. Yeah, I’m from there. Bronx. Ain’t been back in about a year an’ a half.” 

“Do you ever think of going back?” 

“Wish I could, but… can’t,” Angel said. “There was a – uh, a – let’s call him a bad ex. If I go back, he’ll definitely find me, and believe me, I’d rather strip for Vox ‘til I’m dead then risk that.” 

“I see,” Alastor frowned. “He must’ve been pretty bad if that’s the case…” 

Angel rubbed at one arm. “Yeah, well. That’s kinda how I ended up here. Ran away from him, started strippin’ in one a’ Vox’s clubs in Atlantic City. He came by one day an’ liked what he saw – told me he was openin’ up a new chain a’ clubs down South and wanted to hire me an’ some other girls. Sounded pretty good to me, right? New start in a new state an’ all?” He snorted, “Too bad he ‘forgot’ to tell me ‘til I got down here that I was gonna owe him for literally everythin’. Food, housin’, stage fees, clothes – pretty soon I was in deep debt with him, an’ he knows if I say no he can just pick up the phone and…” he shook his head, “I don’t wanna think about that.” 

Letting out a deep sigh, Angel forced a smile. “Anyway, I was able to wriggle away enough to get the part time job at Al’s, so I could at least buy a used car – that’s why I sleep in there, he can’t charge me for that… ‘course, he fuckin’ hates that I work there too, but there ain’t much he can do about it so long as I still spend most a’ my time at the club.” 

Alastor was staring at him, not noticing that the plate he was holding was dripping water onto the floor. “He can’t charge you for those things in lieu of pay, can he? Surely that’s illegal?” 

“And I’m gonna do what about it?” Angel said, “Call the cops? They won’t do shit. They only care if it’s runaway kids gettin’ exploited, I’m twenty-seven. I made my choices – they weren’t the greatest but I made ‘em. ‘Sides, the best they’d do is send me back to New York an’ then I’m back where I started.” 

“It ain’t all bad though,” Angel continued, stepping forward to playfully poke Alastor in the chest, “’Least I get to bake fun pies sometimes.” 

“Angel…” 

“You’re sweet for worryin’, Al, but you’re not the first and ya won’t be the last. I’m a big boy. I can handle it.” Angel picked up his jacket, starting to head for the door as he shot a smile over his shoulder. “Thanks for havin’ me for dinner. I’ll see ya at work tomorrow, yeah?” 

Alastor cleared his throat as he walked Angel to the door. “Yes, of course. Try to be on time, won’t you?” 

“No promises,” Angel winked, heading out onto the doorstep. “Night, player.” 

Alastor stood at the door staring down the street for a long time after Angel’s car had long disappeared.

\--- 

When Alastor arrived at the diner the next morning, Vaggie met him at the back door. That was unusual; even more unusual still, the usually unflappable hostess looked concerned. 

“There’s a customer here who’s been asking for you,” Vaggie said. “Won’t order or talk to anyone else, just wants to talk to you. He’s not a regular – I’ve never seen him before.” 

“Alright, take care of the other customers,” Alastor said. “I’ll see what he wants.” 

Vaggie nodded. “He’s in the corner booth.” 

Alastor made his way onto the dining floor, looking around until he spotted the man in question. Even sitting down he was rather tall, looking down at his phone. As Alastor got closer he could see the stranger was wearing a red silk shirt with, in Alastor’s opinion, tacky zebra print cuffs. Heart-shaped sunglasses sat atop his head. 

“Excuse me,” Alastor said, approaching the both. “I’m the proprietor here – I’m told you were looking to speak with me?” 

“Yeah.” The man leaned back, looking Alastor up and down. “I’m lookin’ for someone. I’m told he mighta been seen here recently.” He held up his phone – plastered right on it was a candid photo of Angel. A little younger looking and without the pink highlights in his hair, but certainly Angel. 

“You seen this guy?”


	4. Chapter 4

Alastor knew he’d hesitated too long before he answered. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar, Mr. …?” 

“Valentino,” the man said, clicking his phone screen off and putting it away. “Funny you ain’t familiar with him, since I heard he works here.” 

Alastor shrugged, doing his best to be nonchalant, “I’m new to this diner, and it’s possible he’s moved on.” 

“Think ya could see if there’s a number for him or anything?” 

“I’m afraid it’s quite out of the question to give out employees’ personal information,” Alastor said. “HR rules, you understand.” 

Valentino snorted. “HR. Right.” 

“I’m afraid if you’re not planning on eating or drinking anything, I’ll have to ask you to leave to free up seats for paying customers.” 

Valentino shrugged, sliding out of the booth, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a card, which he tried to hand over – Alastor just stared at it. “The thing is,” Valentino said, dropping his tacky sunglasses over his eyes, “He’s in pretty big trouble. I can help him out – if I can get to him. If ya run across him, just be aware he ain’t the angel he’s convinced everyone he is. Reach out to me if ya see him, yeah?” 

“Of course.” Alastor still didn’t reach for the card, and Valentino dropped it on the table instead. 

“I’ll be around. He’ll turn up sooner or later, I’m sure of that.” 

Alastor stayed standing where he was while Valentino headed for the door. The moment the door swung shut behind him, Alastor was sprinting for the hostess stand. 

“Vaggie, call Angel right away and tell him not to come in the front entrance,” Alastor said, for once thanking his lucky stars that the blond was late yet again, “Tell him to come in the side delivery door, and then go straight to the kitchen, not out onto the floor.” 

“Is everything okay?” Vaggie asked, even as she reached for the phone. 

“For now,” Alastor said. “And I intend to keep it that way.” 

\--- 

Alastor was able to intercept Angel as he made his way into the kitchen as directed, looking confused. Without saying anything, he took the other man’s arm, leading him to the office and pulling a seat out for him. 

“Uh, everythin’ good?” Angel asked with a nervous chuckle, “I ain’t gettin’ fired, am I?” 

“No, no,” Alastor said. “But there was a man here this morning inquiring after you.” 

“A man?” 

“He said his name was Valentino.” 

All the color drained from Angel’s face at the name, making his freckles stand out even more starkly on his cheeks. “V-Valentino?” 

“Yes. Do you know him?” 

Angel closed his eyes, his hands clenching into fists on his knees. “Yeah, I know him alright… looks like he finally fucking found me. Fuck! I musta pissed off Vox… he musta said somethin’, the fuckin’ asshole. Shit. Shit!” He leaned forward and rocked, his hands fisting into his hair. 

“I’m guessing this is the bad ex you mentioned,” Alastor said, frowning a bit at Angel’s reaction. “Don’t worry, I didn’t give him any information about you.” 

“Thanks for doin’ the goddamn bare minimum,” Angel mumbled into his arms. “But this is a small fuckin’ town, he’s gonna either realize ya were lyin’, or find me anyway.” 

“Even if he does, he won’t hurt you,” Alastor said. “We’ll make sure of it.” 

Angel glanced up, “Why the fuck do you care?” 

“The safety of my employees is my responsibility,” Alastor said, “And that’s all there is to the matter. Now, you won’t be doing your shift today.” 

“I won’t?” Angel’s eyes grew wide as he started to panic again, “But I – I ain’t got nowhere to go! If I’m sittin’ in my car, I’m definitely a target, he’ll –“ 

Alastor held up a hand, “You do have somewhere to go.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out his house keys and handing them over. “I’d like you to spend your shift at my place today. If we’re lucky, Valentino will see you didn’t come to work here, and leave. If not… we’ll think of something else, but at least you’ll have somewhere to stay while you do it.” 

Angel stared down at the key in his hand. “….Seriously?” 

“Very serious. Now, come on, up you get – Husk will walk you to your car. You can make yourself comfortable at my apartment, and I’ll stop by once the shift is over here. I should be able to cover for you.” 

Angel snorted. “Almost wish I could stay and see that…” 

“Yes, well… you can’t,” Alastor almost rolled his eyes. “Now go on and enjoy the day off, at least.” 

\---- 

It was past eight p.m. by the time Alastor finally returned back to his apartment, exhausted and starving. Overseeing the restaurant was one thing – doing all of Angel’s serving duties for eight hours was quite something else. Alastor had no idea how the other man balanced that with his other job, in six inch heels no less. 

“Angel?” Alastor called as he stepped inside. 

“In here,” Angel’s voice called back from the kitchen. 

Alastor shed his jacket and headed into the kitchen, suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of baking. Three finished pies sat on the table, cooling, while Angel worked at the counter top rolling out another crust. 

“Is this what you’ve been doing all day?” Alastor blinked. 

“Well, I had ta do somethin’ ta pass the time, ya don’t even got a TV, ya weirdo,” Angel said, turning to wave the rolling pin at him. “’Sides, I figured might as well get a roll-on wit’ the pies for the festival. Can always freeze ‘em.” 

“How… forward-thinking of you,” Alastor said, grimacing as his stomach rumbled, “Too bad it isn’t appropriate to eat pie for dinner.” 

“Yeah, I figured ya’d be hungry, that’s why I ordered Chinese,” Angel said, gesturing to some bags next to the fridge. “I know what it’s like ta come back from work an’ not wanna do anythin’.” 

“Oh,” Alastor was surprised, and he went over to peek into the bags, “…Thank you very much, that was thoughtful of you. How much was it? I’d be glad to reimburse you.” 

Angel shrugged, putting the rolling pin down and leaning against the counter, “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Call it a thank you for not rattin’ me out to Val. Now how ‘bout ya get some plates down an’ play good host? You ain’t the only one who’s hungry.” 

Chuckling a little at Angel’s bluntness, Alastor did as requested, moving the pies off the table and to the counter so they’d have room to eat. He sat down, gesturing for Angel to do the same. 

Angel grimaced as he pulled a box of lo mein towards him, grabbing a pair of the chopsticks that had come with the meal, “Man, Louisiana has some real good food, but compared to New Yok, their Chinese is such trash.” 

“Really?” Alastor opened his own box of fried rice, “I wouldn’t know. Unfortunately I haven’t had the pleasure of trying any other culinary things in any other states.” 

“No shit, really?” Angel stared at him, “Neva been outta Louisiana?” 

“I crossed the border into Texas once for a school trip, but I hardly think that counts,” Alastor said. 

“Man.” Angel leaned back, then pointed his chopsticks at Alastor, “So what is your deal, anyway?” 

“My ‘deal’?” 

“Yeah. Ya show up outta nowhere, act like ya damn ass is on fire any time anyone comes in three feet a’ ya, an’ talk like ya fell outta a Jane Austen novel despite claimin’ ta be from New Orleans. There’s gotta be some kinda story there.” 

“Not much to tell, really…” Alastor said, poking at his food. “Born and raised just outside of New Orleans by a single mother… she desperately wanted me to be successful. Worked very hard to raise enough money to send me to a boarding school. I didn’t want to go… and I’m afraid I resented her for it for most of my life. I suppose it’s why I talk this way… we can just say my natural accent was beaten out of me over the years.” 

Angel frowned at him. “That’s rough. I’m sorry.” 

Alastor sighed. “In retrospect, I can see why she did it. People were bound to make assumptions about me, and at the very least I could use a good education as a shield. I hardly spoke to her after I graduated… she moved up here to start the restaurant, and I found a job at a local radio station, where the elocution lessons really did pay off. I had hoped to return there fairly quickly after finding a buyer for the diner, but…” he shrugged, “Things happen. I do regret not speaking to her more now that she’s passed." 

“An’ what about… y’know, other people? Girlfriends? ….Boyfriends?” 

Alastor sighed. “No, I’ve never been with anyone… like that. To be honest, I’ve never quite had the inclination. I never quite understood when my friends at school would practically knock each other out to be the first to ask out the prettiest girls in town in hopes of getting in their beds later…” 

“No one at all?” 

“Hm, well, I suppose there was Lisabette Taylor, but she barely counts,” Alastor said with a small smile. “Swimming and lifeguarding lessons were quite popular at my school, and the girls from the Catholic school in town would take their lessons there as well, as my school was the one with the pool. She took quite a shine to me and asked if I’d like to date – I thought it would be horribly ungentlemanly to say no. Unfortunately the next day she asked if I wanted to practice CPR on her and I took her quite at face value. She wasn’t very pleased when I delivered quite a hard pump to her chest and bruised her solar plexus.” 

Angel burst out into laughter, “That poor bitch was tryin’ ta flirt wit’ ya and ya fuckin’ punched her in the chest?!” 

“I did not punch her,” Alastor sniffed, “I was performing correct CPR in the way I’d been taught. If she’d been drowning, she would’ve been grateful! In any case, our courtship ended that day.” 

“I fuckin’ bet it did. Man, ya really are clueless sometimes aren’t ya? Guess that explains why ya nearly rocketed into the roof when I sat on ya lap the other day.” 

Alastor shifted, uncomfortable. “You surprised me.”

“It’s okay,” Angel shrugged. “I know lap dances an’ that sorta thing ain’t for everyone.” 

Alastor looked down at his now empty box of food, “Thank you for the Chinese Angel, it was thoughtful of you. I’ll go get the couch made up, shall I?” 

“Huh? Whaddya mean?” Angel frowned up at him, confused. 

“If you’re worried about being a target, you’re certainly not sleeping in your car tonight,” Alastor said. “You can sleep on the couch.” 

A pink tinge spread over Angel’s face, “Oh, uh – that’s – that’s real nice a’ ya, Al, but… fact is, I’m gonna have ta go into the club tomorrow anyway. If Vox is the one who tipped Val off, he’ll find me there. I’ve just been… delayin’ the inevitable.” 

“Excuse me?” Alastor frowned. “Why are you going back then? Just don’t go.” 

A guarded look came over Angel’s face as he picked at his chopsticks. “Yeah, that’d be great, wouldn’t it… I ain’t got a choice, though.” 

“That’s nonsense, of course you have a choice. If Valentino is the issue, perhaps we should call the police?” 

A small growl of frustration made its way out of Angel’s throat. “No! No cops. Ya don’t get it! Just – just stop tryin’ ta understand everythin’, okay? An’ trust me when I say I don’t have a choice.” 

Alastor huffed, growing frustrated himself, but deciding not to push the man just now. “Very well, fine. If you insist on going back there, we can still take some precautions. Stay here instead of in your car, allow I or Husk to escort you to and from your shifts at the club.” 

“I dunno…” Angel folded his arms around himself, “I don’t want any of ya gettin’ hurt ‘cause a’ me…” 

“We’re all grown men, Angel, I’m sure we’ll be just fine,” Alastor said. “Now if you wouldn’t mind taking care of those pies, I’ll go and get some extra blankets for the couch.” 

Alastor split off from Angel, shaking his head. He knew the other man was hiding something, and he wished he’d just open up – he wouldn’t be able to help properly otherwise. Still, he remembered Husk’s warning – push too hard, and he’d just end up pushing Angel away. 

He pulled an extra comforter down from his linen closet, along with a few extra pillows and a clean sheet. When he tossed the sheet over the couch, he was surprised to find Angel catch the other end, silently working to help him make up the couch. 

They worked together to tuck the sheets in, then tossed the comforter on top, neither quite making eye contact. 

“Looks cozy,” Angel said when they’d finished. “Thanks again.” 

“Of course. I’ll leave you to get settled. Sleep well.” 

Alastor headed into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him and standing there for a moment. His closet caught his eye, and he walked over to it, reaching up to take a box down from the top shelf. 

Angel was wriggling his way under the blankets when Alastor stepped back into the living room, and he looked up with a concerned look on his face, as if he was worried Alastor had changed his mind and was going to ask him to leave. “Everythin’ okay?” 

“Yes, I just wanted to offer you… this…” Alastor held out the old and worn stuffed rabbit. “This is Henry. He’s seen me through a lot of situations through boarding school and beyond. I thought maybe…” he looked at the rabbit in his hand, “This is stupid, isn’t it.” 

“No,” Angel said, reaching out to take the rabbit. “Thanks, Al. Ya know ya kinda sweet for someone with a massive stick up his ass.” 

Alastor felt his cheeks heat up a little and he turned to switch off the light before he returned to his room. 

“Night, Al.” 

“Goodnight, Angel.”


	5. Chapter 5

“If you’re gonna stare into space, could ya do it where you’re not in my way?” 

Alastor startled, blinking as he came back into himself from his daydream. “Oh. My apologies.” He stepped aside, freeing up Husk’s path to the walk-in refrigerator. 

Husk gave him a look as he went into the walk-in, coming back out a moment later with a carton of eggs in his hands. He set them on the counter and pulled out a massive skillet, setting the gas going on the stovetop. 

“What are you doing in my kitchen, anyway?” 

“I was going to see how much space there was in the walk-in for Angel’s pies before next weekend,” Alastor said, “But I suppose I got… distracted.” 

“Uh huh.” Husk bent down to the lowboy refrigerator and pulled out a giant block of cheese before reaching up and grabbing a cheese grater from one of his shelves, shoving both into Alastor’s hands. “Well, if you’re gonna stand around in here pining like an idiot, might as well make yourself useful an’ grate some cheese for the omelettes.” 

Alastor stared at him, the grater dangling from one hand, “I don’t get your meaning, I am not pining.” 

“So the fact that ya went practically catatonic when ya started thinkin’ about Angel is just a coincidence?” 

Alastor sighed, placing the block of the cheese on the worktop and getting to work, “I’m not pining,” he insisted. “I’m just… worried. When I dropped him off at the club earlier he looked like a man going to the gallows. He keeps saying he can’t leave, but I don’t understand why. He won’t give me a legitimate reason.” 

“Didn’t I tell ya to stop pushin’ him?” Husk said. 

“I’m trying, honestly,” Alastor said. “But since that ex of his Valentino came around –“ 

“Hold up.” Husk turned from his work, staring at Alastor. “Valentino’s been here?” 

“Yes, didn’t you see him here the other day?” 

Husk shook his head, “I don’t leave the kitchen ‘less I fuckin’ have to. Shit… okay, look. A coupla I times I been to that club – s’hard to find places that serve alcohol on Sundays in this fuckin’ blue laws parish so ya take what ya can get. Sometimes if Angel didn’t wanna go back to his car after a shift he’d have some drinks with me, and… let some shit slip. Valentino’s not an ex, he’s….” 

“He’s what?” Alastor frowned. 

Husk shook his head. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. He asked me not to tell, but… look, when ya go an’ pick him up from that club tonight, I’m comin’ with. If Vox is lettin’ Valentino sniff around there, he’s gotta learn that Angel’s got some muscle behind him now.” 

Alastor’s brow furrowed as he turned back to the cheese. “Why do I get the feeling I’ve somehow involved myself in something very complicated?” 

\---

The sun was just setting as Alastor and Husk made their way into Vox’s club – Angel would still have an hour or two left on his shift. 

A scantily clad girl with a fake smile guided them to a high top table set just off the main floor, but still with views of most of the sports games on the wall and the stage at the front of the place. Husk scanned the area, mouth pulling into a frown as his eyes flicked around. “I don’t see Angel.” 

“Maybe he’s on his break?” Alastor suggested. “Surely he wouldn’t have left already without telling one of us?” 

“No… I think I smell a big, dirty New York rat,” Husk said. 

“Well, well, well, come back to get another little taste of what success looks like?” Vox was approaching their table with a shit-eating grin. “Or have you changed your mind about selling?” 

“No, I haven’t changed my mind,” Alastor said coldly. “We were hoping to see Angel.” 

Vox clicked his tongue. “Sorry, boys. You gotta call ahead if you want time with a particular dancer. That little snow bunny is workin’ the private rooms tonight – buddy of mine blew in from the East Coast, thought I’d have Angel give him a little treat.” 

Alastor narrowed his eyes. “Then I suppose we’ll wait here for him to get off his shift.” 

“If you want,” Vox shrugged. “Might be a bit of a wait, though. Luckily for you there’s a special on drinks and appetizers tonight. Here, on me.” He pulled a five dollar voucher out of his suit jacket and tossed it rudely onto the table, laughing as he walked away, “Don’t spend it all in one place!” 

“I didn’t like the sound of that,” Husk said, gesturing to a passing waitress, “You, beer, now.” 

“Do you think Angel is alright?” 

Husk huffed, “Angel’s one of Vox’s biggest money makers, he won’t let anythin’ too dire happen to him… I hope, anyway.” He reached for the mug the waitress was setting down, “May as well get plastered in the meantime while we wait.” 

The night passed slowly. Sports bars, in Alastor’s opinion, were one of the most boring places on the planet, and watching Husk put beer after beer away wasn’t particularly entertaining, either, no matter how impressive it was that he never seemed to get any drunker. 

About every half hour or so, a new girl would get up on the pole and would dance to some pop song Alastor wasn’t familiar with for tips, but even that he watched with some level of disinterest. He didn’t understand the appeal, and none of them were as talented gymnastically as Angel had been, anyway. 

He checked his watch, about to scream when it revealed he’d only been suffering through such boredom for an hour. He was about to suggest to Husk that maybe they should ask after Angel again when movement behind the bar back caught his eye. 

A nondescript door that Alastor had assumed was for employees opened and Valentino stepped out, his arm draped over Angel’s shoulders. 

Alastor kicked Husk under the table to get his attention, nodding his head in their direction to not be obvious. They watched as Valentino guided Angel behind a service counter, and then towards one of the emergency exit doors. 

“C’mon,” Husk slid out of his seat, not swaying at all despite the impressive amount of alcohol he’d drunk. He started for the emergency door himself, but Alastor grabbed his arm. 

“No. That’ll take too long. We can intercept them from the front.” 

It was starting to drizzle again as they made their way outside, Alastor leading the way around the side of the building just in time to see Valentino and Angel come out the side door. 

Once they were out of the club, Angel was visibly pulling against Valentino, the other man having a tight grip on the back of his collar. 

“-Oughtta be grateful I’m not, after all those months ya spent ghostin’ me,” Valentino was saying. 

“Val, please –“ 

“Is there a problem here?” As soon as Alastor spoke, Valentino let go of Angel’s collar, holding his hands up innocently. The moment he was let go, Angel stepped away from Valentino – Husk reached out and grabbed the blonde’s arm, pulling Angel behind him. 

“I thought there was a policy against touching the dancers,” Alastor said casually. 

“An’ I thought you were lyin’ when you said you didn’t know the little shit,” Valentino said. “Guess one of us was right.” 

“He’s late for his ride, so we’ll be off,” Alastor said, making eye contact with Angel, who bit his lip. 

Valentino laughed. “Oh man, he’s really got ya snowed, hasn’t he? Playing the sweet little victim, right? What a joke. Ya wanna tell ‘em, Angel? Show ‘em who ya really are?” 

Alastor noticed how Angel’s hands fisted as the other man stared at the ground, and he felt a surge of anger. “I believe I know him well enough, and am at least civilized enough to keep my hands off him.” 

Valentino raised an eyebrow, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Oh. Oh, that is sweet. You like him, don’t you? How utterly _precious_ –“ 

He took a step towards them, and the moment he did, Husk had a switchblade out, holding it threateningly between them. “One more step and I’ll cut you another hole so deep you’re gonna have to shit out your mouth.” 

Valentino scoffed, the cold air fogging around them as he chuckled. “Fine, have it your way, for now. But I always get my way, one way or another. Soon enough you’ll see who he really is an’ I’ll be there when ya drop him like a hot potato.” He turned to go back inside, glancing over his shoulder. “See ya around, Angel-cakes.” 

Husk kept the switchblade out until Valentino had disappeared back into the club, turning back to Alastor and Angel. 

“Shit, kid, are you okay?” 

Angel nodded silently, and Alastor suddenly noticed he was shivering, still only wearing the crop top and hot pants he usually wore to the club. He slid his jacket off, handing it to Angel, who took it and slipped it around his shoulders with a small smile of thanks. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Alastor said. “I’ll drive, considering how many I just watched you put away, Husk.” 

“Damn, I’ve driven on more than that.” 

Alastor rolled his eyes as he unlocked the car door, “Please don’t tell me that.” 

\---- 

Vaggie was just flipping the sign to ‘Closed’ when they pulled up, and she quickly unlocked the door to allow them entrance. “What are you guys doing back? I was just about to leave.” 

“We just needed a calm place to retreat to and for Husk to sober up before we all head home,” Alastor said. “By all means, head out – I can lock up when we’re done.”

Everyone’s heads turned as the door to the bathroom opened and Charlie stepped out, “Are you almost ready to go, Vaggie? The movie starts at ten – oh.” Two circles of red appeared on her cheeks as she noticed them all looking at her, “Hi, everyone.” 

Angel seemed to shift out of his stupor, a grin stretching his face. “Just about to leave, huh, Vags? Gonna get some –“ 

“Do not finish that sentence,” Vaggie said, wagging a finger in his face, “What’s with you anyway? You look frozen.” 

Angel shrugged, “Yeah that’s kinda what happens when ya standin’ outside wit’ barely any clothes on. Ya real lucky you’re gettin’ ta see me like this, usually would cost ya a twenty at least!” 

“Thanks for the complimentary show, then,” Vaggie said dryly, reaching a hand out to take Charlie’s. “I’m ready.” 

“I’ll see you guys at the festival if I don’t see you before!” Charlie said, waving to them as Vaggie practically yanked her out the door. 

“Well,” Alastor clapped his hands together, “Nothing for a cold night like this like hot chocolate, am I right, Angel? Husk? …. Husk?” 

A loud snore came from one of the booths where Husk had sat down and promptly fallen asleep, head directly on the table. 

“…Alright, just you and me, then, I suppose,” Alastor said, pushing the swinging door into the kitchen. “Now let’s see, where on earth does Husk keep the saucepans…” 

Angel quirked a brow and walked over to the counter, poking his head through the pick-up window. “Hot chocolate?” 

Alastor paused in his rummaging through Husk’s shelves, “Did you not want some?” 

“No, I do, I just…” Angel rubbed at his arm, “I’m just surprised, I guess.” 

“Surprised?” Alastor triumphantly pulled out the saucepan, then threw open the pantry, searching for chocolate. 

“I mean, I kinda thought you’d wanna talk about what happened back there… wit’ Val an ‘all… an’ yet you’re just here rantin’ about makin’ hot chocolate.” 

Alastor ignited the gas stove, pouring a healthy amount of milk into the pan, “I was under the impression that you didn’t want to talk about it. You’ve been quite avoidant thus far.” 

Angel winced, looking down at the ground. “Yeah, I guess I have…” 

“If you have things that you prefer to be kept private, then they’re not any of my business,” Alastor said, breaking up chunks of chocolate into the milk, “However…” he glanced up, grimacing as Angel tilted his head. He could just make out a bruise against the other man’s temple as the blonde hair shifted, “If it is information that could affect your safety, I do hope you’d talk to someone about it, if you don’t feel comfortable talking about these things to me.” 

“It’s not that I’m not comfortable…” Angel retreated back to the counter, flopping onto a stool, tracing patterns onto the fake wood. “It’s… just…” 

Alastor came out of the kitchen holding two steaming mugs, placing one in front of Angel. “Just what?” 

Angel reached for his mug, blowing on it, looking anywhere but at Alastor. His voice became small, “I’m just scared.” 

Alastor reached under the counter and pulled out a can, “Whipped cream?” 

Angel huffed a little, but pushed his mug towards Alastor, watching as the other man squirted a healthy amount into the cup. “Scared of Valentino?” 

“No – well, kinda, but not…I’m scared if people know… who I am… then….” Angel’s eyes darted nervously, “Then that’s all I’ll be.” 

Alastor watched him over the rim of his own mug. “And who are you?” 

“Al, you’ve been so nice lettin’ me stay wit’ ya and walkin’ me to the car an’ waitin’ for me at the club an’ all…” Angel twisted his hands in his lap, his hot chocolate forgotten next to him, “So I gotta… be at least a little honest wit’ ya. Val ain’t my ex, he… he is…was… my pimp.” 

Alastor’s neutral expression didn’t falter, “Mhm?” 

Angel frowned at him, “Ya do know what a pimp is, don’t ya?” 

“Of course I know what a pimp is. I read.” 

The worry on Angel’s face melted into confusion instead. “You’re not mad?” 

“Why would I be mad?” 

“’Cause I’m… a whore. A prostitute.” 

“I’m not sure why you think I’d be mad about that, it is the oldest profession after all,” Alastor said, “And no offense to you, Angel, but I’m quite frankly not very surprised. And it finally answers my questions about your apparent aversion to calling the police.” 

“…Yeah,” Angel sighed. “That’s the thing… Val knows just how to pull all my strings. He knows I got warrants out in New York – hell, I’d been picked up with his clients more times than not – an’ he hangs ‘em over my head if I don’t behave. I don’t wanna be under him anymore, but I definitely don’t wanna go to jail.” 

“And I take it once you got here, you thought you were safe until Vox began threatening to call Valentino?” 

“Bingo,” Angel sighed, “But Vox ain’t dumb, he figured out the whole system too – had me an’ the girls helpin’ run drugs through there, so at least if threatenin’ me with Val didn’t work he could just call the cops and pin the drugs on me.” He glanced up at Alastor, holding up a placating hand, “I ain’t been on the stuff though, not in a year. I swear.” 

“You’re hot chocolate’s getting cold,” Alastor pointed out. He needed a minute to process everything. Husk really hadn’t been kidding when he’d said it hadn’t been easy for Angel. 

“I can pack my things an’ be out in the mornin’,” Angel was saying, and Alastor blinked. 

“Out? Out where?” 

Angel stared at him, his eyes large and pained. “I mean… after everythin’ I told ya, it’s… ya still want me in your house?” 

“Yes, Angel,” Alastor said, taking a sip from his mug, “Unless you have specific plans to burn down my house, you’re still more than welcome to stay on my couch. In fact, I’d prefer it, knowing what I know now about Valentino.” 

Angel blinked a few times before a small smile graced his lips and he finally reached for his own mug. “Okay.” They sat in silence for a bit, both drinking their hot chocolate, until Angel piped up again. “Pretty sweet how Vaggie an’ that Charlie girl are goin’ out on a date, right?” 

Alastor hummed, “They do clearly seem to like each other. I suppose it’s sweet.” 

“Yeah…” Angel stared distractedly into his mug, “Nobody’s eva asked me on a proper date like that.” 

“Oh please,” Alastor snorted, “Now I find that very difficult to believe.” 

“It’s true! It ain’t the same when ya payin’ for the privilege of datin’ me.” 

Alastor tapped his fingers on the counter, glancing back at the sleeping Husk and thinking back to what he’d said earlier that day. He himself had never been asked on a date either, nor asked anyone else on one. But still… if anyone needed a bit of a boost, it was Angel. His eyes roamed around the diner as he tried to think of what to say, his eyes falling on the flyer Charlie had stuck in the window for the Peach Festival. 

“Angel…” Alastor started slowly. “Do you – I mean to say – are you planning to go to that festival?” 

The blonde stared at him like he’d lost his mind, “Duh, of course? We’re helpin’ Charlie with the booth an’ the pies, rememba?” 

“Yes, of course, I know, but…” Alastor cleared his throat, “Do you want to go… with me?” 

“You mean like carpool? Yeah, sure, we can do that.” 

Now it was Alastor’s turn to stare. Was Angel messing with him on purpose or was he seriously not getting it? “No, Angel, I mean. Do you want to go to the Peach Festival. Together, with me. As in… a date.” 

“A…” Angel’s hand tightened around his mug. “…What did ya just fuckin’ say ta me?” 

Alastor’s chest tightened, “Oh, I – I’m sorry, was that too forward? Forget I said anything, I – “

“No, no, no, no,” Angel reached forward, gripping Alastor’s hand, a little laugh bubbling out of him. “I’m sorry, Al, I know how that fuckin’ sounded. Ya just surprised me. But – really? Ya wanna go on a date wit’ me?” 

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” 

Angel leaned back, his smile growing softer. “Okay. Yes. It’s a date. But please don’t punch me in the chest, okay?” 

“I didn’t punch her! It was CPR!” 

“Whateva, Al.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you thought this has been self-indulgent RadioDust thus far, hooo boy just wait 'til you see what's coming. Buckle up buckaroos XD


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell you how happy writing this chapter made me. Anyway enjoy!

The entire week leading up to the festival was rainy and gray, and Alastor was beginning to fear that the Peach Festival would become rained out altogether, so he was more than relieved when the day in question came with a vibrant blue sky and not a rain cloud in sight. 

There was a cool nip in the air as he and Angel arrived at the diner to pick up the rest of the pies, enough to remind them that it was autumn but not chilly enough to be thoroughly unpleasant. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come along to the festival?” Alastor asked Husk as Angel worked to load the pie boxes into the car. “Even Vaggie and Niffty said they’re coming along later.” 

“I’ll be fine here,” Husk waved a hand at him, “I’ve seen funnel cake and overpriced crap before, don’t need to see it again.” 

“Well, if you change your mind, feel free to close up,” Alastor said, “I assume it’ll be rather dead today if most people are going to the festival.” 

“Perfect,” Husk said. “Just how I like this fuckin’ place.” 

“You’re a paragon of sunshine an’ rainbows, Husky,” Angel said, sticking his tongue out at the cook as he came back to lift another armload of boxes. 

“Shut the fuck up, Angel.” 

“That’s all of ‘em,” Angel said, dusting his hands off, impersonating Alastor’s speech pattern, “Shall we be off?"

“I do not talk like that,” Alastor said, grabbing his car keys. 

“Yeah, yeah, ya keep tellin’ yourself that.” 

The ride was quick as the festival had been set up right in the dead center of town, spilling up the streets and down into the college campus. Charlie hadn’t been kidding when she said the whole town shut down for the event. Booths selling things from food to arts and crafts went up and down both sides of the closed down streets, tents and carnival rides rising from flatter areas in the parks. The smell of sugar and fried food was everywhere. Even this early, the sidewalks were starting to crowd with people and families eager to enjoy the day. 

“Guys!” Charlie leaned out from her booth, waving them down as soon as they pulled up and popped the trunk. “Oh, holy cow, Angel you really made a lot of pies!” 

“Heh, yeah,” Angel said, brushing his hair out of his face, “There really ain’t a lot else to do at Alastor’s place if I ain’t workin’. I hope ya get a lot of donations for ya thing!” 

“This is amazing,” Charlie cooed, going to grab the first set of boxes. “I’m sure they’ll go really fast, too!” 

“Do ya need help finishin’ settin’ up or whateva?” Angel asked, and Charlie looked between Angel and Alastor with a knowing smile. 

“That’s okay. Vaggie will be along soon enough to help anyway, and Niffty said she’d stop by too. You two go and enjoy the fair.” 

“Yes ma’am,” Angel grinned, saluting her and turning to Alastor. “Well? Whaddya wanna do first?” 

“Why don’t you lead?” Alastor said. He’d gotten the sense that Angel didn’t get a lot of choices in his life, and he was determined to allow the blonde to enjoy the day as best as he could. 

“Hmm…” Angel turned on the spot, looking around, his eyes flicking as if he couldn’t decide what he wanted to do. Suddenly his face split into a grin, “Animals!” 

“Animals?” 

“Yeah, Vaggie said the 4H club from the high school shows off all the animals they raised! I wanna see ‘em, come on!” He grabbed Alastor’s hand, dragging him down the fairway to one of the larger tents. 

Alastor wrinkled his nose at the slight smell of dirt and manure as they entered the 4H tent, but Angel didn’t seem to mind at all, running from pen to pen to gasp at the animals.   
“Al, look! Piglets!” 

Alastor joined him at the metal rail, looking down into the churned dirt to see a bunch of piglets snorting and snuffling around a larger pig, ostensibly the mother. “They’re so cute…” Angel said, leaning onto his arms onto the fence. “I’d love a little pig… if I ever had a place of my own…they’re s’posed ta be real smart. Smarter than dogs, even.” 

“You know they get quite large,” Alastor said. “Even the teacup ones.” 

“That’s okay,” Angel said with a faint smile on his face, “I’d love it anyway.” 

A girl who looked to be about high school age, wearing rubber boots up to her knees, came over to them with a smile. “Cute, ain’t they?” she said, and Angel nodded emphatically. The girl cocked her head, “Wouldja wanna hold one?” 

Alastor swore Angel’s eyes could’ve fallen straight out of his head they bugged out so much at the suggestion. “Really? We can hold ‘em?” 

“Sure, they don’t mind,” the girl smiled, lifting a pink and brown spotted piglet up into her arms and passing it over to Angel, “Careful though, they’re wriggly little things.” 

Angel practically melted as the piglet was settled into his arms, looking down at it. “Jesus, it’s so fuckin’ cute…Al, can ya take a picture? Please?” 

Alastor nodded, reaching in his pocket for his phone, “Of course.” He snapped a few of Angel and the pig, who apparently had just as much a flair for dramatic poses as Angel did. “I’ll send those to you later.” 

Angel beamed as he placed the pig carefully back down, “Okay, back to ya mama…” 

“I take it you like animals,” Alastor said, following as Angel drifted over to the cows next. 

“Mhm,” Angel nodded, “Neva got ta have a pet growin’ up, but always wanted one. Always really liked hangin’ out at the Central Park Zoo wheneva I got a chance. ‘Specially liked the pettin’ zoo. Ya ever have any pets?” 

“Unfortunately not,” Alastor said, tentatively reaching forward to pat the cow’s nose. 

“Lookit that, she likes ya,” Angel grinned as the cow let out a low moo, reaching for his own phone to snap a picture of Alastor. “There! Okay, let’s check out somethin’ else – c’mon!” 

Alastor couldn’t help but smile as he let Angel drag him out back into the chaos. 

\--- 

“Are you sure you’re going to be able to eat all that?” Alastor raised an eyebrow at Angel as he trailed next to him a few hours later. After bouncing from booth to booth for a while, checking out handmade knick-knacks from locals, and, in Angel’s case, making a sand sculpture by pouring colored sand into a plastic mold, they’d decided they were hungry. 

Angel, however, hadn’t been able to decide on which food booth he wanted to patronize, and so decided to choose all of them. Now with skills he’d no doubt picked up during his time as a server, he balanced several paper plates loaded with funnel cakes, cornbread, hot dogs, burgers, and a slice of pizza in the crooks of his arms while using his hands to clutch a massive turkey leg. 

“Don’t worry about me, Smiles, I can put it away when I need ta,” Angel grinned, “Just look for somewhere to sit!” 

Alastor looked around as they gently bumped through the crowd making their ways through the fairway. All of the tables and chairs that had been set up for the purpose was taken, so it would be sitting on the ground – but it was hard to locate a flat piece of ground that wasn’t currently in the middle of constant foot traffic.   
A flash of green between booths caught his eye – a small grassy knoll overlooking the main quad of the college campus. Empty, and just set off enough from the main festival area that it would be quiet. Perfect. 

“Here,” Alastor gently guided Angel over to it, a hand on his back so as to not make him spill any of his food. 

As soon as they set foot on the grass, Angel flopped down, setting his spoils in a circle around himself as he took a bite from the turkey leg. He glanced up at Alastor, “Ain’t’cha gonna sit?” 

Alastor hesitated, and Angel rolled his eyes, reaching up to yank Alastor down next to him. “Gettin’ grass stains on ya ass is all part a’ the experience, Al, just roll wit’ it. Here.” He shoved one of his plates into Alastor’s hands, “Have some funnel cake. Leave some fa me, though.” 

Alastor looked down at the fried dough covered in powdered sugar in his hands. “I’m not usually one much for sweets… but… when in Rome, I suppose…” he broke a piece off, sticking it in his mouth. It was still warm, and the powdered sugar offset the grease of the dough nicely. He broke off a larger piece, aware that he was getting some of the powdered sugar on his face but not particularly caring. 

Angel glanced at him and let out a laugh. “Ya look like ya sneezed in the coke bag.” 

“What?!” Alastor scrubbed at his face with his sleeve as Angel laughed louder. 

“S’just a stupid joke, Al.” He leaned forward, pulling his own sleeve down to brush the rest of it off Alastor’s face, “There.” 

Angel looked down at the now half-eaten funnel cake and raised an eyebrow. “Damn, I told ya ta leave some didn’t I? Are ya sure ya don’t like sugar? Ya sure inhaled that!” 

Alastor felt his face color, a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It was… tastier than I was anticipating. Wait here, I’ll get you another one.” 

“Hey, wait, ya don’t gotta –“ 

But Alastor was already off. There was funnel cake being sold everywhere, he was sure he could get another one and return to Angel fairly quickly. He found a booth selling them soon enough and got in the line, fidgeting as he inched along. He was so caught up in thinking about getting back that he nearly leapt right out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder, whipping around to face Vox, who actually looked somewhat surprised at his reaction. 

“Did I startle you?” Vox asked, his face sliding into a smirk. “I do apologize.” 

“You didn’t,” Alastor lied, turning back to the line, bristling when Vox got into the line behind him. 

“I have some good news,” Vox rattled on, apparently not bothered by the fact Alastor was refusing to face him, “I’ve got a new business partner.” 

“Congratulations,” Alastor said dryly, keeping his eyes ahead. 

“It’s a much better venture than whatever I could’ve done with that dinky diner of yours,” Vox said. “How is that going, by the way? Business can’t be great, considering I’ve seen most of your staff wandering around the festival today.” 

“Yes well, I believe in giving employees a day off if they’ve earned it, and they’ve been working hard,” Alastor said, still not facing the other man. 

“Hmm, yeah, probably a good idea,” Vox said, inspecting his nails. “Once I really get this new business venture off the ground with Val, Angel’s not gonna have a lotta time off. Best he enjoys it now, I guess.” 

That did make Alastor turn. “Your business partner is Valentino?” 

Vox’s smirk just got wider. “We’ve got some rather impressive plans.” 

Alastor scoffed, “Angel will still have his shifts at the diner. If he needs a day off, he can have one.” 

“Mm. We’ll see.” 

Something snapped in Alastor’s brain and he moved forward to grab Vox’s lapels, “What does that mean?” 

“Careful,” Vox purred. “This place is crawling with cops today. One word from me that you and your little Angel assaulted me, and he’s suddenly hauled off back to New York’s courts to deal with his priors.” 

Alastor’s eyes narrowed, but he let go, eliciting a laugh from Vox. “Man, Val was right. You really do got it bad.” He made a dismissive waving motion at Alastor, “I think it’s your turn.” Sure enough, the line had dissipated during their ‘conversation.’ When Alastor had finished ordering, Vox was long gone. 

Angel was happily munching his way through his pizza slice when Alastor finally returned, setting the paper plate of funnel cake down in front of him. “Took ya long enough,” Angel teased, his smile falling a little at the look at Alastor’s face, “Hey, y’okay?” 

“Ran into Vox,” Alastor muttered, taking his place up next to Angel again, not worried about grass stains this time. “He irritates me.” 

Angel hummed around the piece of funnel cake he’d just shoved into his mouth, “Ya know what mindfulness is?” Alastor glanced at him, unsure where this was going. Angel swallowed and continued, “S’like livin’ in the moment an’ not worryin’ about shit ya can’t deal with right then. It’s a nice ass fuckin’ day, we’re at a fun festival, an’ ya on a date with a pretty hot guy,” he winked, nudging Alastor’s arm, “So don’t worry about Vox until ya gotta.” 

“That is… very prescient of you, Angel,” Alastor said. 

The blonde shrugged, eyeing the rest of his food spoils as he tried to figure out what to eat next. “I ain’t a moron, ‘sides what other people seem ta think about me. I read shit too.” 

Alastor let a small smile grace his features, “Yes – then I must apologize, I’m sorry I allowed him to take up space in my brain. I’ll be more present with you for the rest of the day.” 

“Good. Now help me finish this cornbread.” 

“I thought you said you could eat it all?” 

“Well, I fuckin’ lied.” 

\--- 

Once they had finished gorging themselves, they decided to wander back to Charlie’s booth to see how she was doing. Angel was more than thrilled to see that his pies had been flying off the shelves, and Charlie was ecstatic about the donations she’d been getting to save the theater. 

“This is absolutely amazing, you guys,” Charlie said, her eyes practically glowing with happiness, “We can use some of these funds for the surveyor, and the rest for the gala I wanted to plan to get the rest of the donations we need!”

“An excellent plan,” Alastor said. “I’m very happy we could help you, my dear.” 

“Hey,” Vaggie came up to them, holding two milkshakes, one of which she passed over the booth’s counter to Charlie, “You guys been on any rides yet?” 

“Not yet!” Angel shook his head, “But I been eyein’ those spinnin’ dragons… ya wanna go, Al?” 

Alastor grimaced as his overly full stomach clenched. “I hate to say no, but I’m afraid if I go on anything that spins right now, you won’t appreciate it.” 

“I’ll go with you, Angel,” Vaggie said. “Charlie doesn’t like the spinny ones either.” 

“They make me dizzy!” The other girl complained. 

Angel laughed, “Okay, fine, I’ll go wit’ Vags – but ya owe me another ride, Al!” 

“Of course. Your choice, as long as it doesn’t spin.” 

“You guys having fun?” Charlie smiled as Alastor leaned against the booth to wait for Angel and Vaggie to come back. 

“It has been a very pleasant day,” Alastor nodded. “This is a very charming festival.” 

“You should take him on the ferris wheel.” 

Alastor turned to look at her, “Hm?” 

“Sun’s setting soon,” Charlie got a dreamy look on her face as she glanced over to the large wheel looming over the rest of the fair, “At a fair, there’s nothing more romantic than ending a date on the ferris wheel, looking at the sunset, leaning in for a kiss… plus, if you slip the ride guy ten bucks, he’ll make sure it stops on the top for you.” 

“You don’t… say….” Alastor said, following her gaze to the wheel. 

Charlie winked at him, “Angel did say you owe him another ride. Believe me, works every time – guaranteed second date.” 

“Are you planning the same with Vaggie?” 

Charlie’s cheeks immediately went red, “Oh – well – um, I dunno – d’ya think… we haven’t known each other that long…” 

“Nor have I and Angel,” Alastor shrugged, “You two seem well matched.” 

“You think so?” 

Alastor nodded, winking at her as he noticed Angel and Vaggie weaving their way back towards them, “I won’t say anything if you don’t.” 

“Deal,” Charlie grinned. 

\---- 

“What’re ya so fidgety for?” Angel asked as they waited in line for the ferris wheel. 

“I’ve never been on one before,” Alastor admitted. “It looks a bit higher from right underneath it.” 

“Aww,” Angel smirked, “If ya get scared, I’ll hold ya hand.” 

Alastor rolled his eyes, though he smiled. It was untrue, he’d definitely been on ferris wheels before but he couldn’t tell Angel the real reason he was fidgeting. He’d slipped the ride operator the ten dollars like Charlie had suggested when Angel was in the bathroom, but if they had to wait in line any longer, they’d completely miss the sunset.   
Finally the ride operator waved them forward, and they sat down in the swinging seat as the safety bar was pulled over them. Alastor’s stomach rolled a little – he hadn’t been expecting the seat to swing. Well, whatever. He could handle it. 

Or so he thought, until Angel started happily swinging the car as they rose up like he was on a damn swingset. 

“Angel,” Alastor said, feeling like his stomach was sliding back and forth in his guts, “Could you stop that?” 

Angel paused, “Oh, sorry – oh, are ya scared? Ya wanna hold hands?!” 

Alastor huffed a smile laugh, “Fine…” he reached out, taking Angel’s hand, “But I am not scared.” 

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” 

Angel leaned forward, resting his chin on his free hand as they gradually rose higher. “The changin’ leaves really are pretty from up here…” 

Alastor had been aware that Angel was objectively attractive, of course, but now, sitting on the ferris wheel with the pink and gold light of the sunset reflecting and melting into Angel’s blonde hair, reflected from his sparkling eyes, Alastor couldn’t believe he’d never quite realized just how attractive Angel really was. 

Just as planned, their car swung to a stop right at the top, giving them a perfect view of the sunset going down over the little town. Angel smiled as he looked over it. “Kinda makes ya forget everythin’ else…” 

“Yeah,” Alastor cleared his throat, shifting a little so he could face Angel, leaning a little closer. Angel turned to face him, and he didn’t think he was imagining it that Angel was leaning closer too. “Angel? I –“ Whatever Alastor was going to say fell right out of his head as he felt a tell-tale lurch in his stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick.” 

“Oh shit – ova the rail, Al, ova the rail!!!” 

\--- 

“Here,” Angel pushed a plastic cup of Sprite into Alastor’s hand, giving him a kind smile, “Feelin’ betta?” 

“Yes,” Alastor said, closing his eyes as he took a sip of the bubbly drink. His stomach was starting to feel better after all. “I do apologize, Angel, I’m horribly embarrassed.” 

“Eh, it happens,” Angel grinned, “An’ ya get bonus points for missin’ my shoes. Maybe we should getcha back now, though. Looks like things are shuttin’ down for the night, anyway.” 

Alastor nodded, finishing the soda and tossing the cup in the trash before turning towards the parking lot, not flinching away as Angel took his hand while they walked. 

“I had a real great time,” Angel said as they found the car and slid into the seats. “Even wit’ the barf-o-rama at the end.” 

“Angel…” 

“Sorry,” Angel chuckled. “…We… we should do it again sometime.” 

Alastor glanced at him as he pulled the car onto the road. “I think the festival is only once a year…” Out of the corner of his eye, Angel slumped. “But… perhaps you’d like me to escort you to that gala of Charlie’s?” 

Angel perked right back up again, grinning. “Yeah. Yeah, that’d be great, Al.” 

“It’s a date, then. Would you mind if I swung by the diner, quickly? I just want to ensure Husk is alright and not drunk on the kitchen floor.” 

“Yeah, no prob,” Angel smiled, leaning his head on the window to look out of it. They sat in companiable silence for the few minutes it took to drive to the right road, Alastor guiding the car up the off-set road that the diner was set into. 

Angel frowned as they got a little closer, lifting his head off the window. “Hey – Al? Is it just me or… does it look like the diner’s on fire?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's true, I'm a slut for cliffhangers, but I'm also a fast updater so I don't really feel bad about it :P

Alastor let a rare curse word fall from his mouth as he pulled the car to a stop a safe distance away. Angel was right – there was smoke billowing from the dining area of the restaurant, orange flames licking at some of the already-broken windows. 

Angel grabbed Alastor’s arm, pointing. “Look! Ambulance lights!” 

Sure enough, the red flashing lights of an ambulance were flashing on the other side of the diner, previously obscured by the heavy smoke. Even as they watched, a fire truck screamed up the driveway. 

“Stay here,” Alastor said to Angel, getting out of the car and jogging over to the emergency vehicles. An EMT wearing a hi-viz jacket blocked his path, holding his hands out. 

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to step back.” 

“No, you don’t understand, this is my diner, I’m –“ Alastor glanced over the EMT’s shoulder, spotting Husk sitting on the back outboard of the ambulance, speaking to another paramedic while holding an oxygen mask to his face. “Him, he’s my employee – I’m his boss. Is he okay? Can I talk to him?” 

The EMT hesitated, reaching for the radio on his belt and turning away to say something into it. When he got a crackled response, he turned back to Alastor and nodded. “Yeah, go ahead – just stay away from the building.” 

“Thank you.” Alastor hurried over to the ambulance, looking Husk up and down, but the cook seemed to be okay, if a little dirty. “Husk, are you alright?! What on earth happened?!”

“I’m fine,” Husk grumbled, pulling the oxygen mask from his face, “Don’t really even fuckin’ need this but they insisted, just in case.” 

Alastor turned to look at the burning diner. The firemen were already starting to put out the flames, but the thick smoke still enveloped everything. “You weren’t inside, were you?”

“Yeah, but I got out just fine, obviously,” Husk said, gesturing to himself. “I was just closin’ up when I heard a weird fuckin’ noise – turn around to see the entire dining room in flames. Fires don’t usually catch that fast, and if they do, I woulda guessed it would’ve started in the kitchen, but it didn’t. I’m guessin’ some kinda accelerant was used, which means bad news for you, boss. Means someone did this on purpose.” 

Alastor frowned. “I suspected as much.” 

“Hey, you the owner?” 

One of the firemen approached Husk and Alastor, raising the visor up off his helmet. Alastor nodded, and the fireman jerked his thumb back at the diner. “We’ve put the fire out. Surprisingly minimal damage – just the back half of the dining area really burned, the rest and the kitchen are just fine. I’m gonna need you to make a statement and fill out some paperwork, though, as the signs do point to arson.” 

“Yes, of course,” Alastor said. “Can you give me just a moment?” He headed back to the car where Angel was waiting, looking anxiously out the window. 

“Well?” Angel asked, rolling the window down. 

“The fire has been put out,” Alastor said. “But I’m going to need to stay here to speak with the firemen for a bit. Here,” he handed the keys over to Angel, “Head back to my place and wait there. I’ll return as soon as I’m done.” 

“Al, ya sure?” Angel frowned, “Ya don’t want help, or…?” 

“I’ll be fine, and Husk is fine, in case you wondered,” Alastor said. “Hopefully I’ll return home shortly.” 

“Okay…” Angel took the keys, sliding over to the driver seat. “Just be careful.” 

“I would ask the same of you.” 

Alastor watched until Angel had driven away, then returned back to the still waiting fireman and EMTs. “Well. Shall we get started on that paperwork?” 

\---- 

Angel sat cuddled into the corner of the couch holding Henry the stuffed rabbit in his lap, watching as Alastor paced back and forth in the living room on the phone with Vaggie.   
Alastor had returned home about an hour ago after ensuring Husk would be okay to get home on his own. The fireman who’d taken the lead on the diner showed Alastor the extent of the damage once it was safe to go in – not a complete loss, but it would take some time to do the repairs, meaning Alastor had to call the rest of the staff to inform them of the sudden change. 

“And I assure you, you will be paid for the time off,” Alastor was saying, “I’ve already called Niffty and informed her as well. I’m simply relieved that no one was hurt. Feel free to drop by tomorrow and I’ll sign off on any paperwork you need to collect payment, but I must go now, I have company.” 

“This is all my fault,” Angel mumbled, bending to press his face into his knees, Henry in the crook of his arm. 

Alastor frowned, “How in the world could this possibly be your fault?” 

“It was Val an’ Vox. Ya know it was. They were sendin’ a message – an’ no matter how much ya keep rebuildin’, they’ll keep pullin’ shit like this until I’m right back where they want me,” Angel sighed, “In the palms of their hands an’ sayin’ ‘how high’ when they say ‘jump’.” 

Alastor began punching numbers on his phone, “In that case, I need to make a call to the police station.” 

Angel sat up straighter at that, his eyes going wide. “Al! Ya can’t call the cops!” 

Alastor turned to frown at Angel, “I have to. There were signs of arson. Surely that’s the type of thing that ought to be reported to police?” 

Angel shrunk back, frowning, “You know what they’ll do.” 

“All the more reason to inform the police.” 

“No, all the more reason not to say anything!” Angel said, his voice getting a desperate edge to it, “If you call the cops claimin’ Vox an’ Val burned the diner down, the cops’ll be comin’ after ‘em to get statements, an’ then they’ll know ya called the cops on ‘em, an’ then –“ 

“Angel.” Alastor crossed the space between them, sitting on the edge of the couch. “I don’t have a choice. At the very least, I need a statement with the police on record to get the insurance money to rebuild. What would you have me do?” 

Angel stared up at him, his eyes big. “Please…” 

“I know you’re worried,” Alastor said. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? But… there’s no way around it. I need to call them.” 

Angel’s face closed off immediately, and he sat back. “I’m kinda tired. I’m gonna sleep now, I think. Thanks for the fair an’ whateva.” 

Alastor blinked at the sudden change, but slowly got up anyway, allowing Angel to slide down and stretch his feet out. The blonde turned away from him, grabbing the blanket and pulling it over his head. 

“Angel –“ 

“I’m sleepin’ now.” 

“Right…” Alastor let out a sigh. “Goodnight, then. Things might look a bit better in the morning.” 

He shut off the light, glancing back at Angel once more before heading into his own bedroom to make the call. 

\--- 

“Ugh, it stinks,” Vaggie said as Alastor picked his way around charred booths and beams. “I guess we’re lucky it wasn’t worse.” 

They’d met up at the half-burned diner in the morning for Alastor to sign off on Vaggie’s paperwork, and the two had decided to poke around to see what was salvageable. 

“New seating,” Alastor checked it off on the list he was holding. “And new windows, of course. This may be a blessing in disguise, I did hate that wall color.” 

“Yeah well, burning the walls down to change the color is a little extreme,” Vaggie said, kicking a burned piece of wood away from her. “I’m glad Husk was okay.” 

“Me too. He says he didn’t see who did it, but all signs point one way.” 

“Vox?”   
“Yes. And his little pal Valentino.” 

“Fuckin’ hate those shits,” Vaggie sighed. “Where’s Angel?” 

“At work,” Alastor said. “He had a club shift today that he said he couldn’t be late for. Don’t worry,” he said when Vaggie gave him a look, “I sent Husk along to watch over him. I promised him he’d be safe and I meant it.” 

“That’s super gentlemanly of you and all,” Vaggie said, “But you can’t be everywhere at once, even with Husk helping.” 

“I know that…” Alastor said. “But I’m doing all that I can for now. Vox mentioned some kind of new business venture with Valentino. I’m not sure what it is but I can guess it’s all wrapped up in this as well.” 

Vaggie shrugged, holding up her paperwork, “Well, I think I’m pretty much done here – I’m not too interested in my hair smelling like soot for longer than it needs to. Thanks for the sign-off. You gonna pick Angel up from the club?” 

Alastor cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’m afraid Angel is a bit upset with me right now, hence why I sent Husk to the club instead of watching myself. Considering he is currently staying on my couch, I thought he might appreciate from space from me.” 

“Oh man, you really are a moron, aren’t you?” Vaggie shook her head, and Alastor bristled. 

“What on earth does that mean?” 

“Just a little advice from me,” Vaggie said as she turned back to go to her car. “Pick him up at the club.” 

\--- 

Alastor meant to. He really did. But he knew Angel was mad at him, and he didn’t want to make the other man any more uncomfortable than he already had. The morning had been a disaster, Angel icily ignoring him as he went about getting ready for the club, barely saying two words to him despite Alastor’s attempt at starting a conversation. 

Alastor headed to the club at Vaggie’s suggestion, but simply ended up wandering around in the parking lot, trying to convince himself to go inside. After a few false starts and turning around again, he gave up, going to the coffee shop instead. He sat there, nursing a black coffee, grumbling to himself. Stupid Vox and Valentino. He’d like to grind them both under his heel like the maggots they were if he could. 

Finally, he got the all clear text from Husk that Angel’s shift had finished and the blonde was heading back to his place. Perfect – maybe they could finally talk. 

He practically ran back to his apartment, confused when he found Angel not there, and the sheets and comforter from the couch neatly folded at one end, Henry sitting on top of the blanket. 

“Angel?” Alastor called, poking his head into the bathroom and the kitchen. The place was empty. Alastor stood in the middle of the living room, scratching his head. Angel should’ve made it back to his apartment in the time between Husk texting him and Alastor arriving home, so where was he? Had something happened on the way? But then who would’ve folded the sheets? 

A small piece of paper tucked under Henry’s arm caught his attention. Plucking it up, he unfolded it. 

_Alastor,  
Thanks for letting me crash. Wish I could’ve said goodbye in person but Val wanted to go pretty quick. Don’t worry it’s nothing sinister or anything like that – this is my decision. I was stupid to think I could be someone I’m not, and as long as I keep trying, people are just gonna keep getting hurt. Thanks for thinking I could be something better, though. And thanks for lending me this little guy for a while. Good luck with the diner and everything.   
XOXOXO   
Angel _

Alastor lowered the note, his heart plummeting into his stomach. Without a second thought he was out the door again, sprinting down the street into town, skidding to a stop at Vox’s club. 

When he burst in, Vox was sitting at the bar, looking up at a Saints game. He didn’t even see Alastor’s fist flying into his face until he was already knocked straight off the stool. 

“Where did they go?!” Alastor said, standing over Vox. 

“My, my, first you get all litigious, now you’re punching people out,” Vox said, raising a hand to his cheek, “And yet you’re the one running around blaming me for things?” 

“I know you and your little asshole of a partner started that fire,” Alastor snarled, “But I don’t care. Where is Angel?” 

“How the fuck should I know?” Vox said, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. “He quit this afternoon. He and Valentino are going somewhere else to help expand that little business venture of ours. Don’t worry,” Vox reached out to pat Alastor’s cheek, making the other man rear back, “I’m sure Angel will be _very_ popular where he’s going.” 

“You won’t get away with –“ 

“With what? Don’t be so cliché, Alastor, it doesn’t flatter you at all,” Vox said. “Yes, the cops came here this morning, and guess what? There’s no proof I was involved with anything at all. Such a shame the security cameras at the diner haven’t been working for the past few days. Really, it was probably hoodlums, this town really is going to hell in a handbasket… but mine work perfectly. And they very clearly show you punching me unprovoked just now.” Vox’s eyes narrowed, “So if I were smart, I might leave now.” 

Alastor’s fists clenched, but he turned to go. He’d make a different plan. He’d figure something out. 

“Oh, one more thing,” Vox said, making Alastor turn back. 

“I seem to need an extra employee, and yours seem to be out of work,” Vox smirked, “Think that hostess of yours can climb a pole?” 

Vox’s laughter followed Alastor out of the club as he stormed out. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he got to Angel’s, shooting off a text, asking if he was alright. A moment later his phone buzzed – he pulled it out, his spirits falling as the text bounced back as undelivered. 

That was it, then. 

Angel was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a bit of sex work stuff in this chapter, nothing NSFW or graphic but you know, the normal stuff Angel gets up to!

Alastor stared dully at the insurance forms in front of him, the words blurring on the page. The third glass of whiskey he’d just shot down probably wasn’t helping much, nor was the poor lighting in the dive bar he’d decided to waste his time in. 

The process of moving through an insurance payout in order to get the funds to rebuild the burned part of the diner was agonizingly slow. Normally Alastor didn’t mind a bit of bureaucracy, but he hadn’t been able to really focus at all these past few weeks. His mind kept wandering back to one thing. Or person. But now the insurance claims specialist was breathing down his neck, and if he wanted to have the diner fixed at all, he really needed to finish these forms. If only the text would stop swimming around. 

“Damn. Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

Alastor blinked sluggishly as he raised his head to face Husk. The other man stared back, raising an eyebrow as he lifted his glass to take a sip of whatever spirit he was drinking. 

“Husk…” Alastor said. “Do you come here… often?” 

“Might as well call it my home away from home,” Husk snorted, settling himself in the seat next to Alastor and taking a glance at the papers in front of him. “Whassat?” 

“Oh. Insurance for the diner,” Alastor shoved the papers away from him. “I simply can’t seem to focus on them right now.” 

“I wonder why,” Husk said dryly, gesturing at the three empty glasses abandoned on the bar. 

“Ha. Ha.” 

Husk downed the rest of his own drink, tapping on the bar to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey! Two more over here!” 

Alastor groaned. “I don’t know if I should.” 

“Then that’s exactly when you should,” Husk said. “It’s on me, anyway. ‘Least I can do since you’ve been payin’ us even without the diner operational. You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Only seemed fair,” Alastor sighed, watching the bartender pour their drinks, reaching out to take his. “And I enjoy you as a staff. I wanted to ensure you’d all return once it is operational again.” 

Husk nodded, taking a sip of his new drink before looking Alastor up and down. “You look like shit.” 

“Thank you ever so for noticing.” 

“Look, I know it’s been kinda rough after Angel leavin’ an’ the fire an’ all but –“ 

Alastor’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he tuned Husk out as he reached for it. If it was the damn insurance claims specialist again he was going to stab that little weed of a man, he was working on the forms as fast as he could –

He felt like he’d been dunked in a bucket of ice water as he read the name on the text. Angel. Hurriedly he opened it, but there was nothing in the message except the picture Angel had taken of him petting the cow at the fair. 

Alastor quickly texted back with shaking fingers. 

_Angel, are you alright? Where are you?_

He held his breath, staring at the phone as he waited for an answer, only to be disappointed when the message was, once again, returned as undelivered. 

“Yo, Al,” Husk snapped his fingers in front of his face. “You okay? You just blanked out there for a sec.” 

“Angel texted me,” Alastor said, still staring down at his phone. 

“He did? The kid okay?” 

Alastor shook his head. “I don’t know. My message was returned, and this was all he sent.” He turned the phone to show Husk, who frowned. 

“Why would he send ya that?” 

“I don’t know,” Alastor repeated. “If he isn’t speaking to me, why would he bother indeed? …Do you think it’s a call for help? But if it is, how could we possibly? We don’t know where he is.” 

“Actually…” Husk said slowly. “There might be a way to find out. Give me your phone.” 

Alastor passed it over, watching as Husk flicked his way through menus and options. 

“The thing about these new smartphones,” Husk said as he scrolled through it, “Is that you can track certain things even without the person on the other end knowin’, if they send you some info like Angel just did. Learned about that when I did a stint in Intelligence in the military. That’s why I’ll never carry one, I don’t want random strangers fuckin’ knowin’ where I am. In Angel’s case, though… boom.” 

Husk triumphantly turned the phone around, showing a pin dropped in the Google maps option. “The kid has his Location settings open. I’d say that’s a pretty good sign he wants to be found.” 

Alastor sat up straighter, gazing down at the phone in wonder. “You can do all that? So where is he?” 

Husk minimized the map a bit so he could see more of it, “That ain’t no surprise, he’s in New York City. Can’t pinpoint where exactly, but I can pinpoint the neighborhood… looks like somewhere in Chelsea.” 

Alastor took the phone back, staring down at the digital pin in the map. New York City. Chelsea. That’s where Angel was. 

“Husk…” Alastor said, “I’m going to need a ride to the airport.” 

\--- 

In the end, Vaggie was the one who drove them to the airport, not having been pleased to have been woken up in the middle of the night to drunken rambling from Alastor and Husk about saving Angel, but once she was shown the proof that they knew where he was, she was more inclined to help them out. 

Alastor knew she would be more than capable of managing the diner’s rebuilding affairs when he was gone, so it didn’t come as much of a shock to him when she offered as they hurtled down the highway. He was, however, incredibly surprised when Husk insisted on coming to New York with him. 

“It may be dangerous, I’m not sure if you coming is a good idea,” Alastor said, starting to wish he hadn’t had that fourth whiskey. 

Husk folded his arms. “Once ya land in New York, what’s your plan?” 

“Head to Chelsea – wherever that is – and ask how one finds a prostitute until I find Angel.” 

“…Yeah, that’s not a plan. I’m comin’ with, dumbass. You ain’t the only one who wants to make sure the kid’s okay.” 

So now, Alastor found himself strapped into a center seat right next to Husk in the economy coach section of the airplane. The attendant at the desk had been quite surprised to see them run up without any luggage and insist to board the next flight to New York City – apparently that wasn’t really something that happened in real life. But the plane had extra seats and Alastor’s credit card was accepted, so they were allowed on to the five hour flight. 

It was an overnight flight, and so the cabin was darkened as soon as they reached cruising altitude. Husk passed out almost immediately, softly snoring against the window he had insisted upon sitting next to. Alastor frowned at his phone as he pulled up the picture Angel had sent him again, trying to find some secret message in it. What if wasn’t a call for help? What if Angel didn’t want to see him and he’d misinterpreted everything? No, no. He had to stop overthinking. With a sigh, he pulled up the pictures he’d taken of Angel holding the piglet, looking at them for a while before finally succumbing to sleep himself. 

\--- 

New York City was colder than Alastor had anticipated, and he pulled his suit jacket tighter around himself as he followed Husk dodging through crowds on the sidewalk.  
He could already say he wasn’t a big fan of this city. Too claustrophobic, too many people bumping up against him at once. He didn’t like it – not to mention Husk was walking faster than Alastor had ever seen him move, and it was making it hard to keep up with him. 

“Pick up the pace,” Husk said over his shoulder, “If you’re gonna be in this city, you’re gonna have to walk as fast as everyone else.” 

“Even if it’s f-freezing?” Alastor said. 

Husk suddenly paused, causing a woman to curse at him as she had to go around. “In here,” he said to Alastor, ducking into a Dunkin Donuts. Alastor followed, feeling his body relax at the warmth of the store. 

“We’re in Chelsea now,” Husk said. “It’s been a while since I been to New York, but I think I mostly remember my way around.” 

“So do we start –“ 

“ _No_ , we do not start asking around about prostititutes,” Husk hissed. “That’s not how things are done – that’s more likely to make people run. Luckily for us, Chelsea ain’t that big. Grab a coffee, warm yourself up, an’ then we’re gonna start looking for little clues. You’ll see what I mean when we get started.” 

“Alright…” Alastor said, wondering not for the first time if this was a very, very stupid thing they were doing. “Do you want anything?” 

Husk shook his head, pulling a flask out of his coat. “Got my liquid warmth right here.” 

Once he was armed with his coffee, Alastor followed Husk out once more. It wasn’t long until he figured out the streets were on a grid system, Husk leading him up and down each one. As they got further away from the Times Square area, the streets became seedier, dingier, and the lights in the windows became more and more neon. 

“I think we’re gettin’ somewhere now,” Husk said as they passed the third adult bookshop in a row. 

Alastor paused – he’d just passed a man selling what appeared to be bootleg DVDs off of a blanket on the sidewalk, but when he looked closer, there was something off about the covers. He doubled back, looking more closely at them, realizing in seconds the titles were porn. Not just that – gracing the cover of one of the DVD covers was Angel, sprawled across it, completely naked, sticking his tongue out. 

“Yeah, that guy’s stuff is really popular lately,” the seller said. 

Alastor cleared his throat as Husk suddenly realized he wasn’t behind him anymore and came back, looking curiously down at the titles on the blanket, “Yes, I – I’m a big… fan?” 

“Oh yeah?” The seller looked around as if he was worried someone was listening, “You ain’t hear it from me, but rumor is you can hire him for a night. Brand new place called Dollhouse. If ya gimme fifty for the DVD, I’ll slip their business card in there for free. Gotta be a real baller to go there, though – I heard he charges five hundred just for the first fifteen minutes.” 

“Suits me,” Alastor said, passing over a fifty. The seller reached into his pocket and pressed a business card on top of the DVD. 

“Like I said. You ain’t hear it from me.” 

“We heard you,” Husk growled, snatching the card to Alastor to look at it. “Perfect. I know exactly where these cross-streets are. C’mon.” 

\--- 

Alastor fiddled with the cheap motel curtains while Husk moved around behind him, setting up what he called their “base camp.” According to the business card they’d been given, they were directly across the street from the Dollhouse. It looked like a regular brownstone building to Alastor, except for the fact all the windows were blacked out and there was a man who was clearly supposed to be a bouncer outside. 

“If Valentino’s in there, we’re screwed,” Husk said, “He’ll recognize us. But the rest of the workers in there shouldn’t know who we are, and we know Valentino probably doesn’t spend all day in there, but also doesn’t like spending a lot of time away from Angel. So we’re gonna stake it out here – we see him leave, that’ll be our chance.” 

“My chance, you mean,” Alastor said, not taking his eyes off the building. 

“Whaddya mean?” 

Alastor turned to face him. “We can’t both go in. Considering they said Angel charges five hundred for the first fifteen minutes, and considering the models and brands of the cars outside, they expect a higher class clientele, which I believe I will have an easier time passing as than you.” 

Husk scowled at him for a moment, then shrugged. “Whatever, fine. You go once Val leaves and talk to Angel. I’ll be your eyes and ears here if he comes back.” 

Alastor nodded, settling himself down by the window to wait. After a few hours, switching with Husk every hour or so, he perked up as the bouncer moved to open the door for someone. Sure enough, Valentino stepped out, a girl on each arm, into a waiting limo. 

“It’s go time,” Husk said grimly, “You ready?” 

Alastor thought of the photo Angel had sent him and nodded. “I’m ready.” 

\--- 

The bouncer looked Alastor up and down through his sunglasses, despite the fact it was now dark out, chewing noisily on a piece of gum. “An’ who did ya say referred ya?” 

“A Mr. Black,” Alastor said calmly, following the directions that had been printed on the back of the business card, “He says to send his greetings from Georgia.” 

With a snap of his gum, the bouncer nodded approvingly, going to punch a number into a call box on the door. When it buzzed, he pushed it open for Alastor with a slightly mocking bow, “Welcome to the Dollhouse. Enjoy.”

“Thank you.” Alastor strolled inside, taking a look around. This appeared to be one of the brownstones left over from the Victorian age, repurposed for whatever this was. Some sort of brothel, Alastor supposed. A shining hallway of marble and deep mahogany wood led him into a larger foyer that had several plush couches lining the walls, all facing a bubbling fountain. 

“Hello, sir,” A red-headed woman in a sheer pink robe with the tops of her breasts peeking strategically out approached him. “First time to the Dollhouse?” 

“Yes,” Alastor said, “I was referred by –“ 

The woman waved her hand, “We don’t need any of that, you’re already in, hun. Have a seat here,” she gently pushed him down onto one of the plush couches, lingering a little longer than she needed to. Alastor felt his cheeks go red, and he clenched his fists, embarrassed. He didn’t want this woman rubbing herself all up on him, all he wanted was to find Angel. 

The redhead mistook his frustration and squeezed his hand, “It’s alright, baby doll, none of us bite. Well… ‘less ya want us to. Here,” she thankfully pulled back, sliding what looked like a menu into his hands instead. “This is our menu for all our gals and guys here at the Dollhouse, with a list of their prices and what they will and won’t do, though – for the right price… well, you know. Most affordable to the front, most expensive towards the back.” 

Alastor flipped directly to the back, garnering an eyebrow raise from his current hostess. Sure enough, Angel had a double spread in the back all to himself, a large picture of his face on one page, a full body shot on the other, though thankfully this time he was at least wearing underwear. “Him,” Alastor said, handing the menu back. 

“Sir…” the redhead said delicately, “Angel Dust is our most exclusive performer. If you don’t have an appointment with him, a full session could cost up to ten thousand dollars. We have many other, more affordable girls who I’m sure would –“ 

“No,” Alastor said, meeting her gaze squarely. He had no intention of paying the full price, but she didn’t need to know that. He’d spent enough time around rich people in boarding school to learn how to throw his weight around to get what he wanted. “Him. The price isn’t an issue. I can give you a thousand cash up front now if you’re worried about that. Unless you’re saying I look cheap? Perhaps I should lodge a complaint with management?” 

The hostess let out a tinkling laugh, slapping him lightly on the arm. “Oh, you. If that’s what you want, I’ll let him know you’re coming up. Follow me, please.” She led Alastor over to what looked like a reception desk, picking up a phone. 

“Angel Dust? Yes, a client. Yes, a full session. What?” She glanced back at Alastor, giving him a tiny smile before lowering her voice, “No, he went out. I don’t think so… Sandy and Lila went too. Are you sure? Okay. I’ll send him up then.” She turned back to him, a dazzling smile back in place as she reached behind the desk to palm a panel. To their left, a golden elevator door opened. 

“That will go straight to Angel Dust’s suite,” she said. “One thing though.” She gestured to a row of small lockers next to the elevator, “All phones and personal effects must be left in these lockers during a session. For our performer’s safety, you understand.” 

“Of course,” Alastor agreed, opening the locker closer to him, not letting it show on his face as his heart thumped a little. So much for keeping in touch with Husk. He really hoped he hadn’t misinterpreted things with Angel, or else this could become much more dangerous than he anticipated. 

“Please enjoy,” the redhead smiled at him once his things were securely away. He stepped into the elevator, watching as the doors slid shut. 

When they opened again, he was in yet another marble hallway with soft pink lighting. There was only one door at the end of it, so he headed to it and pushed it open.  
He stepped into a large bedroom that seemed to be continuing with the pink lighting theme. A huge bed sat in the middle of the room on a dais, bedecked in red satin covers. A stripper pole was screwed into the ceiling on the other side of the room, and a red plush couch sat just behind it, Alastor assumed for people to watch the dancing if there was any. 

“Just a moment, tiger,” Angel’s muffled voice came from behind a tiny door next to the bed that Alastor hadn’t noticed before. “Make ya self comfortable.” 

Alastor looked around, still standing awkwardly in the center of the room. How the Hell was he supposed to do that? His heart leapt as the door opened and Angel stepped out. 

Angel, wearing a pink bathrobe that barely fell to his knees, locked eyes with Alastor, his jaw falling open. “A-Al?” 

Unable to think of anything else, Alastor blurted, “It’s rather cold in New York, isn’t it? I do hope I’m not imposing, I – oof!” he was nearly knocked off his feet as Angel barreled into him, yanking him into a hug before abruptly pulling away. 

“Ah, shit, I forget ‘bout the no touchin’ thing – Al, it’s so good to see ya, what the fuck are ya doin’ here?!” 

“I got your message,” Alastor said, and Angel blinked as his mind put it together. 

“Fuck, I never thought that – I didn’t think ya’d actually – “ 

Alastor stepped forward, drawing Angel into a more gentle hug as he noticed the tell-tale signs of tears forming in Angel’s eyes. “But I did. Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, peachy,” Angel said in a wavering voice, laughing a little as he wiped his eyes. “I can’t believe ya fuckin’ found me.” 

“Husk is here as well,” Alastor said. “In the motel across the street. We can leave right now. … If you want. We miss you back in Louisiana. When the diner opens again, it won’t be the same without you. People are already asking after your pies. And…” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “I… I would miss you. Quite a lot, actually.” 

Angel smiled softly at him. “I’ve missed ya too, Smiles.” He paused, glancing around before moving to a giant wardrobe on one side of the room, “Fuck it, let’s get outta here. Technically I ain’t really allowed to leave without Val’s say-so, though, so we’re gonna have to go down the back way, I think we can climb down to the fire escape. Ya ain’t afraid a’ heights, are ya?” 

“Not… to my knowledge…” Alastor said slowly. 

“Good. It’ll be a piece a’ cake.” Angel paused in his rummaging as a golden phone next to his bed started to ring. He crossed over to it, picking it up. “Yeah?” Angel’s eyes went wide, his skin growing pale, “Didja tell him I’m with a john? But – okay, shit, thanks.” He hung up, swinging back to Alastor. “Val’s comin’ up. Ya gotta hide, if he sees ya – just – here, get in here!” He yanked open the door next to his bed, revealing a small en-suite bathroom. “Stay in here an’ be quiet.” 

Angel shut the door behind him, and a few moments later Alastor could hear a second pair of boot heels followed by Valentino’s voice. “I thought she said ya had a john in here.” 

“She was wrong.” 

“Huh.” A creak as Valentino crossed the floor. Alastor crouched down, peeking through the lock – he could just barely see the two of them. “Too bad. I coulda been in the mood for a threesome. Oh well. I gotta bone to pick with you, Angie.” 

“What now – augh!” Angel let out a cry as Val twisted his hair in his hand, yanking him close to his body, “I was goin’ through the books an’ it looks like ya were chargin’ what ya were supposed to… but funnily enough some of that money ain’t in the safe. So where the fuck is it, huh? Ya tryin’ ta get money ta get outta here, ya ungrateful little shit?” 

“No, Val, I swear, you musta counted wrong, ya know I love it here, I – “ A sound of a slap, followed by another yelp. 

Alastor gritted his teeth and decided he’d had enough. He burst out of the en-suite, ramming Valentino in the back with his shoulder hard enough to surprise the pimp, making him let go of Angel, who slumped and caught himself on the bed. 

Valentino regained his balance and turned slowly, a grin spreading across his face as he realized who had just attacked him. “Oh ho. So you found a way to contact your little boyfriend after all, eh, Angel-cakes?” 

“He was just leavin’,” Angel said, his eyes wide and desperate, “Weren’t ya, Al? Just catchin’ up, that’s all…” 

“Nice try, baby,” Valentino said, his eyes moving to Alastor, “So, thought you’d be the knight in shining armor and rescue the damsel in distress, eh? Too bad for you, fucko, Angel likes bein’ here. He ain’t gonna go wit’ some stupid rando like you when he makes thousands here, and he ain’t in distress.” 

“I would assume not letting him leave counts as distress,” Alastor said dryly. 

Valentino growled, moving forward to aim a punch for him. Alastor ducked, but he wasn’t ready for Val’s other hand to bean him right in the temple with the business end of Angel’s telephone. He sank to his knees, darkness eating at his vision. He could hear the buzz of Valentino’s voice just before he blacked out. 

“Tie him up and take him down to the basement.” A quiet moment of hesitation. “NOW, Angel. Or I’ll just kill him right here.” 

“…Yes, Val.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Google search history now contains "can you track someone via a text without them knowing" and "How to find a prostitute in New York" so I'm pretty sure I'm on some kind of list now XD


	9. Chapter 9

The throbbing in his left temple was the first sensation Alastor felt when he came to. He pulled his head up from where it had been resting on his chest, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he tried to block the pain that was threatening to start forming a migraine. His shoulders ached – he could feel his wrists bound behind him, his arms pulled behind what felt like the back of a chair. He wondered how long he’d been sitting like that. 

“Look, Angel-cakes,” Valentino’s buzzy voice from somewhere across the room, “Your little friend is finally waking up.” 

Alastor finally forced his eyes open, taking a look around. A red-lit basement, without much in it except some suspicious hooks in the walls and ceiling, a couple of pieces of disused film equipment, plus an old sofa against one wall. Val reclined there, Angel in his lap, the pimp’s arm possessively around Angel’s waist. Angel wasn’t looking at Alastor – his gaze was fixed very firmly on the ground, his mouth pulled down into a strained frown. 

Alastor tested the ropes around his wrists. There was a little give there. If Angel had indeed be the one to bind him, he’d left him a little wiggle room. How interesting. “I’m glad you’re here,” Alastor said calmly. “I’d like to lodge a complaint with management.” 

Valentino stared at him confusedly for a second before letting out a laugh. “Alright, I’ll give ya that, that was actually an alright joke.” 

“I wasn’t joking. Do you treat all your clients like this?” 

“Client,” Valentino ran a hand down Angel’s back, stopping just above his ass, staring at Alastor. He stared back – he knew what Valentino was attempting to do, but Alastor wasn’t one prone to jealousy, unlike some other people he could name. “Are you sure, just a client? I think Angie here thought it was a little more than that. Whaddya think, Angel?” 

No answer from Angel, and Valentino’s smirk grew wider. “Not sure, eh? Well, let’s check out the evidence, shall we?” 

He reached into his pocket, pulling out what Alastor recognized as his own phone – Valentino must have had access to the client lockers. Valentino slid the screen up, going directly to the photo app. Alastor knew he should’ve put a lock screen on, Angel had told him so, calling him a “technophobic idiot” for not doing it, but he’d never gotten around to it. Valentino leered at him as he turned the phone around to show him the pictures of him and Angel together at the fair. 

“And there were matchin’ pics on Angel’s phone,” Valentino said. “I dunno. Most clients aren’t goin’ around taking pictures of their hoes at fairs.” 

Alastor tested the binds around his wrists again. Yes – it hurt a bit, but if he rotated his wrists, he could feel more slack giving way. “Considering no money changed hands, I would say my relationship with Angel is completely none of your business,” Alastor said. 

“Pfft. Yeah. That’s the thing.” Valentino stood up, yanking Angel with him, placing a hand under his chin to squeeze his cheeks and turn his head towards Alastor, “See, Angie here is a product. You either pay for him, or ya don’t get him. He ain’t allowed to have boyfriends. And I think it’s about time you learned that for good, Angel. Now, how should we get the message across…” 

Alastor watched as Valentino cast his eyes around the basement, looking for ideas. He continued to pull at the binds at his wrists – he was getting some good leeway now. If he twisted his hand just right, he could almost reach to pick at the knot holding his wrists together. 

Valentino’s eyes settled on the film equipment in the corner and lit up. “Ya know Angie, I’ve never tried to make a snuff film before. Never could find anyone to volunteer.” His gaze flicked back to Alastor, “But now… yes, I think that’s the perfect way to go.” 

Angel seemed to come back into himself then, pulling against the arm around his waist, “Waitaminute, Val, that – ya can’t – if anyone finds out – “ 

Valentino shoved Angel down onto the couch, towering over him, reaching into his shirt to pull out a Glock, aiming it at the blonde. “Shut the fuck up, Angel, or you’ll be starring in it too. There’s plenty of freaks out there who’d pay big money to see that.” 

Angel fell silent for a moment, his jaw tightening as his fingers clutched the edge of the couch. His voice was so small as he spoke it was hard to hear he said anything at all. “Go fuck yourself, Val.” 

“What was that, baby?” Valentino sneered, pulling the safety off, “Somethin’ about how you’re gonna say sorry or else it’s gonna be your brains all over this couch?” 

“I don’t give a _fuck_!” Angel screamed the last word, bouncing down off the couch to launch himself at Val, barreling into his kneecaps and knocking them into a pile of limbs on the floor. 

Alastor yanked at his wrists harder as he watched the two roll around, Angel scrabbling for the gun and Valentino holding it just out of reach with one hand, holding Angel off by the throat with the other. He could just about get himself free, just a few more twists – 

Valentino let out a yell as Angel bit him, and it felt as though all the air was sucked out of the room as the gun went off. 

Angel slumped off Valentino with a groan, staggering to his knees as his hand went to his bloodied shoulder. 

“Angel!” Alastor said, “Angel, are you alright?!” 

The blonde’s head swiveled to look at him, but his eyes were clouded with pain and unseeing as blood seeped through his fingers. Valentino cackled as he got up, retrieving the gun. He aimed a kick for Angel, grinning as the other man crashed to the floor again and tried to crawl away. He placed a boot on Angel’s back, aiming for his head. 

“It’s too bad,” Val sighed, “You were a good money-maker. Oh well. See ya in Hell, Angel-ca-“ 

A chair slammed over Valentino’s head, splintering into pieces as the pimp fell to his knees, then to his face, stunned into unconsciousness. Alastor stood over him with an almost feral grin, still holding a few pieces of the chair. “How exhilarating,” Alastor said. “I wonder if that’s why Husk likes that move so much on that infernal wrestling show he never shuts up about.” 

A weak grunt from Angel on the floor got his attention, and he tossed the bits of the chair away, going to kneel by Angel instead. He gently rolled him over, looking at the wound on his shoulder. 

“Angel, can you hear me?” 

Angel forced hazy eyes open, locking them with Alastor’s. “Pretty cool move, Al… this fuckin’ hurts like a bitch.” 

“It appears to not have hit any arteries at least,” Alastor said, stripping off his jacket to try and staunch the bleeding. “I can never remember, is it that you’re supposed to leave the bullet in until help can be found, or take it out?” 

Angel’s head thunked back onto the floor, “For fuck’s sake, Al, I can’t give ya a goddamn first aid lesson when I’m fuckin’ dyin’!” 

“You aren’t dying, you’ve just been shot. Don’t be such a drama queen.” 

“I’m gonna kick your ass when this is ova.” 

Alastor let that one go, chalking it up to the pain talking, “We’ve got to get you out of here. Come on, I’m going to help you stand.” 

He slid an arm under Angel’s back, another supporting under his good shoulder as he heaved the blonde to his feet, biting his lip at the hiss of pain that came from Angel. “I’m sorry, but you’re on your feet now! We’re halfway there.” 

“I don’t fuckin’ think so,” Valentino had regained consciousness and was swaying to his feet, grimacing at them, standing between them and the door. “I don’t care if I gotta fuckin’ take both of ya with me, I’m gonna –“ 

There was the sound of a glass bottle shattering, and for the second time that day Valentino hit the floor, though this time he didn’t move again. 

“Husk?!” Angel’s utter confusion seemed to win over his pain in that moment, watching as the old cook still had the handle of the bottle poised where he’d smashed Val over the head with it. 

“Amazing,” Alastor said, looking down at the fallen Valentino. “Smashed in the head twice and he still isn’t dead. It must be because he doesn’t have a brain.” 

Angel huffed a laugh at that, which quickly turned into another hiss. Husk’s eyes flicked between them, “Jesus Christ, what happened?! Kid, you okay?” 

“Define ‘okay’,” Angel ground out. 

“We need to get him to a hospital,” Alastor said, “Come help me support his other side.” 

“How – how did you know where…?” Angel tried to ask as Husk moved to pull his good arm over his shoulder to support him. 

“Al told me to come lookin’ if he wasn’t back by a certain time,” Husk shrugged. “Considering it’s been about four hours I thought I oughtta come see what was goin’ on. We’re not total idiots, you know. Let’s get you outta here, I’m gettin’ the creeps.” 

“Wait,” Angel struggled against them as they made it to the door, “I gotta… gotta make sure…” 

“Make sure what?” Alastor frowned, and Angel struggled a little harder despite his wound. 

“Let go ‘a me. Just real quick.” 

Alastor exchanged a glance with Husk over Angel’s head, but loosened his grip and stepped back regardless, Husk doing the same on the other side. 

Angel staggered away from them, bending down to scoop up the gun Valentino had dropped. His skin grew paler with every step towards the fallen pimp, but he didn’t stop until he was standing right over him. “Al, Husk – you two can wait outside.” 

“Angel, your shoulder,” Alastor protested, “You’re severely wounded. We can’t leave you alone.” 

“It’ll just be a minute. Wait outside.” Angel’s voice was serious, though he turned back and gave a small grin to Alastor, “An’ at least if I kick it, I know someone who knows CPR.”

“Angel –“ 

“Go! Now. Please, Al.” 

Alastor hesitated, turning only when Husk put a hand on his arm to steer him out. “The kid knows what he’s doing.” 

When Angel joined them in the alleyway next to the brownstone ten minutes later, extremely pale and blood dripping down his shoulder, neither Alastor nor Husk asked him what he needed to finish in the basement. They both knew. Valentino would just be a missing person whom nobody missed. 

\--- 

“I’m bored.” 

“That’s the fifteenth time you’ve said that,” Alastor said, flipping the page on his magazine. “I’m keeping count.” 

Angel huffed, leaning back in the hospital bed and folding his arms petulantly before remembering that sort of movement would pull his bad shoulder and adjusting himself, “Where’d Husk go?” 

“Out to a package store, most likely,” Alastor said. “He was most unhappy to find out that hospitals somewhat frown on stocking liquor. He’ll be back soon.” 

Angel kicked his feet under his covers, blowing a raspberry at them. He was hooked up to an IV to help replenish his fluids, the shoulder where he’d been shot heavily padded and bandaged. The doctors had, of course, asked about how Angel had gotten shot in the first place, but after a roll of bills and a threat from Husk was shoved into their hands, they didn’t ask any more questions. Good old New York. 

“This hospital gown is majorly ugmo,” Angel said, plucking at the blue floral fabric. “Don’t they have any fashion designers workin’ on these things? Ya’d think it’d be obvious.” 

Alastor glanced over the top of his magazine with a small smile. “Perhaps that can be your next endeavor.” 

“Nah,” Angel scooted further up, and Alastor absently reached over to adjust his pillow to give his back some more support, “I ain’t good at fashion designin’. Tried it a few times but neva could get it right… I think I wanna go back to bakin’ more, anyway.” 

“Oh?” Alastor put his magazine down, folding his hands in his lap. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that.” 

“Ya did?” 

Alastor caught the fearful look that flashed across Angel’s face, and he waved a hand, “I do want you to keep baking at the diner, and no, you aren’t being fired. Technically you never even quit.”

“Okay… so what did ya wanna talk about, then?” 

“The fire gave us ample opportunity to redesign,” Alastor said. “And so, I thought perhaps I’d add a bakery section for you to run. Would you like that?” 

“I –“ Angel blinked, “Really? Ya’d do that for me? I – I dunno what to say… yeah, I’d like that a lot. A major lot.” 

“Good, it’s settled then.” Alastor went to reach for his magazine again, but was stopped by Angel’s hand on his. 

“I… want ta talk to ya about somethin’ too…” Angel said, one foot tapping on the bed nervously. 

Alastor cocked his head. “Yes?” 

“…What…ah, what… are we?” 

“What are we?” Alastor blinked, not understanding the question. 

“Like…” Angel glanced away, though he didn’t remove his hand from Alastor’s, and Alastor didn’t move to take it away either. “Shit, this is harder than I thought it was gonna be… like… how y’know how Val said ya were my boyfriend… are… we…?” 

“Oh.” Alastor blinked at him, finally getting the gist of what Angel was trying to ask. “Do you want me to be your boyfriend?” 

A pink tinge colored under Angel’s freckles, “…Kinda.” 

“Kind of?” 

“No, not kinda.” Angel finally turned his head to look at Alastor, “Yeah. I do.” 

“Well then, I suppose I am your boyfriend.” 

Angel had to laugh a little at that, “Same ol’ Al, that’s for sure. Fuck,” he sniffed, rubbing at his eyes as they started to water a little, “Must be these damn painkiller drugs, I’m gettin’ emotional…” 

“What the – kid, are you crying?” Husk stared between the two as he returned, standing in the doorway, “The fuck did you say to him, Al?” 

“I didn’t say anything!” Alastor protested. 

“He tried to give me CPR!” Angel cackled, making Alastor roll his eyes as Angel howled with laughter at the inside joke, leaving Husk utterly bewildered. 

“You two are weirdos,” Husk said, taking a seat next to Alastor. “You gonna eat your Jell-O cup, Angel?” 

“Nah, you can have it, but it tastes like shit,” Angel said, passing it over to Husk who tore into it eagerly. 

“You know,” Alastor said, “I was also thinking of possibly changing the name of the diner. I never did like the name Al’s. I’m quite sure it was one last way my mother was trying to annoy me. Besides, a diner called Al’s makes me think of greasy truckers, not the family clientele we’re trying to attract. And I think I’ve thought of a much more appropriate one, anyway – much more appealing to the passing customer.” 

“Oh yeah?” Angel watched him curiously, “Whatcha thinkin’?” 

Alastor smiled. “I think ‘Angel’s Diner’ is a much more appealing name."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angel's never going to leave that CPR joke alone as long as he lives.   
> If Valentino features heavily in a story of mine he has to die, that's just the rules :P   
> But what about Vox? Hmm well we've still got an epilogue to go!   
> As usual thanks for reading, sorry about all the cliffhangers but that's just how I roll XD No cliffhanger for ya this time. As always feel free to comment if you wish to!


	10. Chapter 10

Alastor sat behind the wheel of Angel’s Toyota, idly tapping one hand on the wheel while the other fiddled with the radio stations. All of Angel’s pre-sets were infernal stations that either screeched about calling to tell the station how amazing they were in order to win a free hat, or ones that blasted such heavy bass Alastor could practically feel his teeth rattle. 

He switched over to the AM stations, relaxing as he scrolled through talk radio options to finally settle on a classical music channel. Finally satisfied with his music choice, he settled back to wait for Angel to finish with his appointment. 

The few weeks after they’d returned from New York had been pleasant as he and Angel explored their new relationship – or rather, Angel guided him through what it meant to be in a relationship in the first place – and as they both worked to get the diner finished for the grand re-opening. But Angel had been through a lot, through things that left scars on the soul of a person even if the outside looked fine. There was no denying that, and there was no brushing it off to be buried under a rug, either. 

Alastor had realized that fact after the first few times he’d wandered out of his bedroom late at night to use the bathroom and found Angel sitting up, Henry under his arm, staring into space and unable to be roused from it unless Alastor physically went up to him and waved a hand in his face. A few times Alastor walked in on Angel crying, though he’d quickly suck it up and pretend he was fine, refusing to acknowledge he’d even been crying at all, let alone what he’d been crying about. 

Once those incidents became more common than not, Alastor put his foot down and insisted Angel go to therapy. 

Angel had been resistant at first (“Just tell some random stranger private shit about my life? You’re outta ya mind!”) but Alastor had a secret weapon in the form of Charlie and Vaggie, who backed him up in the thought that therapy might be good for Angel. Charlie, in particular, was instrumental in doing research to find a suitable local therapist who had a good background, and they were finally able to convince Angel to agree to at least sixteen sessions before he wrote it off for good. 

Alastor glanced out the window as rain splattered across it. They were well and truly into the rainy season now, basically what Louisiana called winter. Alastor didn’t mind it – he preferred rain and grey skies to the harsh humidity of summer anyway. 

He turned his head as the passenger side door opened up and Angel slid inside. His right arm rested in a sling to keep his injured shoulder from moving too much where he’d been shot, but it didn’t seem to slow him down any as he twisted to pull his seatbelt on. 

“Hello,” Alastor said, “How was your session?” 

“Alright,” Angel shrugged as Alastor put the car into drive and started to pull out of the driveway. He knew better to ask for more details – Angel trusting that anything he said to his therapist was private was of utmost importance. 

Alastor glanced over out of the corner of his eye as Angel rested his head against the window to look out of it. That wasn’t particularly unusual – Angel usually became contemplative after a therapy session. 

“A new mall opened up while you were away in New York,” Alastor said. “It even has a movie theater. No more driving an hour to Monroe to see a movie. Would you like to go on a bit of an impromptu date? A movie and shopping perhaps?” 

Angel looked at him sidelong then. “I thought you didn’t like movie theaters.” 

“I don’t like crowded movie theaters where everyone is blinding me with their god-forsaken phones,” Alastor corrected. “I just don’t understand why you would pay a ridiculous sum of money to see a film and then look at your phone the entire time. You may as well stay home. But the point is you like movie theaters,” Alastor said. “So how about it?” 

“Hm, shoppin’ an’ sufferin’ through a movie just for me,” Angel said. “You’re spoilin’ me. What’s the catch?” 

“Does there have to be a catch to treat you?” 

Angel paused, thinking about it, then shrugged. “Guess not.” Another pause, and a more anxious question, “Hey… this new mall, it ain’t one of Vox’s ventures, is it?” 

“It may well have been at one point, but I highly doubt it is now,” Alastor said, watching as Angel moved to turn the radio back to one of his pre-sets. “Did you know that Al Capone was taken down for tax evasion?” 

Angel gave him a weird look then. “What the fuck does that mean? What are you talking about?”

“I just thought it was a bit of interesting information.” 

“You’re a cute guy, Al, but you’re real fuckin’ weird sometimes,” Angel shook his head. “Yeah, fuck it, let’s check out this new mall. I could use some new shit anyway.” 

Alastor smiled. “Perfect.” 

\--- 

The movie seemed to perk Angel up quite a bit – it was one of those animated things that came out every few years that Alastor couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of, but the musical numbers had been alright, and it seemed to have put Angel in a better mood, which was more important. Even better, as it was the middle of the afternoon, there was barely anyone in the theater which saved Alastor from having to get into a fight with a stranger over improper phone usage. It had happened before. 

They strolled through the shining hallways of the big new mall, Alastor happy to listen to Angel natter on about the movie they’d just seen, the blonde’s arms full with the giant bucket of popcorn he’d insisted on getting. And saving the bucket. 

“Man, this is one a’ those fancy malls,” Angel said. “They got all the good brand stores here an’ everythin’!” 

“Plus a two story bookstore,” Alastor said. “Certainly can’t go wrong there.” 

“Hey, look.” Angel paused in front of a storefront, gazing up at the mannequins in the window. “Whaddya think of that red outfit in the middle?” 

“In general, or how it would look on you?” 

“Life lesson Al,” Angel smiled, “When someone asks ya that, they mean the second one.” 

“I see.” Alastor glanced up at the outfit, “You know I think anything would look good on you.” 

“Not helpful.” 

“Shall we go inside? You can try it on if you like.” Angel hesitated and Alastor decided to take the lead, placing a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder to steer him inside, “We can always leave if you don’t like it. You deserve a new outfit.” 

“Why, ya takin’ me somewhere special later?” Angel teased, but cocked his head when Alastor just smiled. “Wait, are ya? We can’t though – I thought ya said we needed to be at the diner tonight to deal wit’ the contractors.” 

“Trust me, I have it all in hand,” Alastor said, “Now go, try it on.” 

Angel nodded, pulling the outfit off the rack and disappearing into the dressing rooms. He came back a few moments later, wearing the red A-line dress, buckling the black belt that went around it. He did a small twirl for Alastor, spreading his hands, “Whaddya think? Ya don’t think the color’s a li’l samey-samey?” 

“I think it’s perfect,” Alastor said, taking Angel’s non-injured hand to twirl him around to give him a second look. 

Angel checked the price tag, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head, “Shit, it’s two hundred dollars.” 

Alastor waved a hand, “It’s on me, darling. If we’re already here, you may as well get a purse or some other accessory for it. If you like.” 

Angel raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Okay, now I know for sure you’re up ta somethin’. What’s goin’ on, and whatever it is, do I need to fix my hair?” 

“Your hair is fine,” Alastor assured him. “And as for what I have planned for the rest of the day, simply trust me.” 

Angel smiled a bit at that. “I do.” 

“Good. No need to change back – I’ll tell the cashier you’ll be wearing it out,” Alastor said, going to pay for Angel’s choices. 

“I dunno what you’re up to but all this mystery is kinda hot,” Angel said, linking his arm through Alastor’s as they headed back into the main drag of the mall. From where they were, they could look down into a sunken pit surrounded by seats, the middle of it taken up by a giant ostentatious fountain. Above the seats were some large television screens taking up most of the wall – some were being put to use showing ads for sales at various stores, but one of them was running through a news cycle. 

“Just a moment, Angel,” Alastor said, pausing in front of the news cycle one. “I believe you might want to see this.” 

Angel paused, following Alastor’s line of vision. Footage of Vox being led out of his club in handcuffs and to a waiting police car was on, the business man’s jacket pulled up over his head to prevent any photos from being taken, as if that would work. 

There was no sound as the screen ran through the news cycle, as it wouldn’t be able to be heard over the noise of the mall anyway, but black and white subtitles were popping up underneath the footage clear as day. Angel’s mouth dropped open as he read them. 

_Mr. Vox, a local businessman, was taken into custody today for two counts of tax evasion and one count of fraud. Authorities were tipped off by an anonymous whistleblower – Mr. Vox was not available for comment._

As the news cycle switched to something else, some kind of piece about an endangered bird at the zoo or something, Angel turned to Alastor, eyes wide. “Is that why ya were mentionin’ Capone earlier? The anonymous whistleblower – that was you?” 

Alastor crossed his arms behind his back with a wide smile, “If one is going to bother engaging in illegal tax activities, one probably shouldn’t leave their financial records where they are easily accessed by curious parties. The authorities may not have been interested in his illegal practices, but the IRS certainly were. You know what they say about death and taxes.” 

Angel stared at him for a moment, then burst into loud laughter, nearly doubling over. “That is… the absolute dumbest fuckin’ way he could’ve been taken down… I fuckin’ love it. Shit. That’s fuckin’ amazing.” 

“I’m glad you think so. In any case, he won’t be around this town to bother or threaten you any longer – your history is safe with me.” 

Angel straightened up, a soft smile crossing his face as he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on Alastor’s cheek. “Thanks.” 

Alastor felt himself blush a little, clearing his throat as he checked his watch. “We’d better go, or we’ll be late.” 

“Late for what? Ya gonna tell me yet?” 

“No. Come along, you’ll see.” 

\---- 

Angel frowned in confusion as Alastor parked the car in the diner’s driveway. 

“Al, this is just the diner.” 

“I’m aware of that, Angel. This’ll just take a moment, come on.” 

“Can I just stay in the car?” 

“I really don’t think you’ll want to.” 

“Okay, at this point I’m startin’ ta think you’re just messin’ with me,” Angel complained as Alastor went around the car to help him out of the seat. 

“Perish the thought,” Alastor said as they walked up to the refurbished diner. 

The building had undergone a complete remodel – the burned dining area had been completely redone, higher windows, better lighting, comfier seating. The diner itself was a bit bigger, as well, as Alastor had added on a full bakery section for Angel just as he had promised he was going to do, including a separate pastry kitchen. The new sign was hidden under a tarp, and the whole building was surrounded with long pieces of red tape to keep anyone from trying to enter before it was ready. 

“Al, what –“ 

Angel didn’t get to finish his question as the flood lights in the parking lot suddenly burst on, surrounding them in light. Vaggie, Charlie, Husk and Niffty came out one side of the diner, and what looked like half the local town came out from the other side. 

“Welcome back!” Charlie and Vaggie shouted, yanking the ropes to pull the tarp down off the sign, revealing the brand new text – Angel’s Diner, with a little glowing halo over the ‘A’. 

“If anyone deserves to cut the ribbon for the grand reopening,” Alastor said, accepting a pair of scissors from Niffty to hand them to Angel, “It’s you.” 

Angel looked down at the scissors in his hands, then up at his smiling coworkers, looking a little overwhelmed. “I… don’t know what to say…” 

“Then don’t say shit and cut the fuckin’ ribbon so we can start partyin’,” Husk said, making Angel laugh. 

“Fair enough.” He stepped forward, cutting the red tape and ripping it down to the cheers of the staff and the locals who were gathered there. 

“Welcome back, everyone,” Vaggie said, throwing open the diner’s doors to reveal the place had been absolutely filled with balloons and streamers, the new tables filled with free food and drink. 

“Shall we?” Alastor offered his arm to Angel, whose smile grew wider. 

“Ya read my fuckin’ mind.” 

\---- 

Six months later, Alastor rolled out of bed, unsurprised to find Angel’s side of the bed abandoned. Running the bakery and pastry section of the diner usually required him to be there quite early, and Alastor didn’t mind the few hours in the morning of sleeping alone – Angel could turn into a damn octopus when he was asleep. Eventually Alastor just gave into the fact that at some point during the night he was going to have Angel clinging around his waist until he had to get up to go to work. 

After a quick breakfast and a stop at the coffee shop to pick up two cups of coffee, spending a few extra moments to ask the cashier about how her cousins were doing, Alastor entered the morning chaos of his and Angel’s diner. 

He entered the kitchen, ducking as Husk hurtled past him with a sizzling pan, shouting order ticket numbers at the pickup window as Niffty zoomed by to grab the ready orders. He dodged through the production kitchen and through the door that allowed him into the pastry section, finding Angel at the work table up to his elbows in flour and dough. 

“Good morning,” Alastor greeted, and Angel’s eyes lit up at the sight of the second coffee cup. He reached for it, not bothering to brush the flour off his hands.

“Shit, you’re a life-saver, Smiles,” Angel said, sucking down half the coffee before leaning over the worktable to kiss Alastor on the forehead in thanks.

“You know that’s technically a health code violation,” Vaggie said from over the counter, holding a clipboard in her hands. 

“Yeah well, if the health inspector says shit tell him he can suck my big fat cock,” Angel said.

“Angel!” Vaggie hissed, “There’s old church people here!” 

Angel hummed with a smirk, “Good. They could probably use a li’l jolt.” 

Vaggie rolled her eyes, turning to Alastor, “I have the payroll ready for you to go over. Angel, we’re gonna be eighty-sixed on the cherry pie pretty soon.” 

“On it,” Angel said, “I got some more cooling on the rack.” 

“Thank you dear, I’ll be in the office in a bit,” Alastor said. Vaggie nodded and walked away, pausing to greet Charlie who had just walked in the door and give her a welcoming kiss. 

“Angel!” Charlie trilled, leaning over the counter, “Could I place an order with you for my charity meeting? The cannolis went over amazing last time!” 

“Yeah, sure, hun,” Angel said, wiping his forehead and leaving a giant flour streak there, “Send Vags an email about it, okay? I’m pretty booked up today.” 

“Sure thing!” Charlie chirped happily, bouncing away. 

Alastor chuckled, leaning over the table to brush at the flour on Angel’s forehead, though it seemed like he was just making it worse. “You seem awfully busy. Do you need to take a break?” 

“Nah, I’m good for another hour or so,” Angel said. “Got any requests for the pie case?” 

“I think you have it well enough in hand, I’ll leave the dessert case decisions to you,” Alastor said. “Though you know I am partial to your lemon meringue.” 

“Lemon meringue it is,” Angel said, turning to make a note on his list. 

Alastor left Angel to his devices, making a run through the diner to make sure all the customers were taken care of and that Husk and Niffty didn’t need anything before heading to Vaggie’s office to take care of paperwork. 

“Kinda funny how when you first came here you didn’t even like this place, huh?” Vaggie asked while Alastor signed paychecks. 

“Yes, but I suppose it has grown on me.” 

“Not to mention Angel’s grown on you.” 

Alastor glanced up and gave her a smile, “It’s been six months, of course he has.” 

Vaggie cocked her head. “You’ve put a lot of work into this place…. So whaddya think, gonna stick around for a while?” 

Alastor got up, going to the door of the office and pulling it open, gazing into the restaurant. “A successful business with a man who I very much adore…” His eyes locked with Angel’s across the dining space, the blonde giving him a quick wave and a blown kiss with a wink before running off to check on one of his pies in the oven, “How could I ever want anything more?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sad this is over I loved writing it T_T And thank you so much for all the comments for those of you who left them, I love them. If ya wanna find me elsewhere, I'm @Xingshou1 on Twitter. Thanks for reading!


End file.
